Back to Back Then
by gilthas
Summary: COMPLETE! 10 years after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry is virtually alone. He spends all his time hunting the few remaining Death Eaters. What will happen when he is thrown back in time, meets his younger self, and has the chance to change history?
1. Back to Azkaban

Back to Back Then  
  
It's 10 years after Voldemort's defeat. Harry Potter is no longer the Harry Potter we know. He's moody and irritable. His past haunts him constantly and he has shunned all his friends. Everything he does is to wipe out the remaining Death Eaters. His powers are unmatched by anyone in the entire world and all those who were associated with Voldemort have either taken cover or are foolishly trying to put back together their lives, hoping against hope Harry Potter will not find them. But Harry always gets his man.  
  
Back 11 years. Harry Potter is still the innocent boy we know. He's got a lot of pressure on him to defeat the Dark Lord but he still manages to have some kind of life thanks to his friends.  
  
The worlds clash. The moody Harry Potter is thrown brutally back in time to the place he has nightmares about. Can he change time, or will he even care?  
  
Disclaimer: I am most assuredly not JK Rowling. I'm probably ruining the characters anyway. Sorry! Oh, and I sincerely hope Harry doesn't turn out like my future depiction of him!!!  
  
Unforgiven  
  
I kept up  
With the prophecy you spoke  
I kept up with the message inside  
Lost sight of the irony  
Of twisted fate  
Lost sight of my soul and its void  
Think I'm unforgiven to this world  
Took a chance at deceiving myself  
To share in the consequence of lies  
Childish with my  
Reasoning and pride  
Godless to the extent that I died  
Think I'm unforgiven to this world  
Think I'm unforgiven  
  
-Creed  
  
Chapter 1: Back to Azkaban  
  
Harry smirked. This almost didn't seem worth his time.almost.  
  
"Please no!" Cried the Death Eater before him.  
  
"Let me guess," Harry said, his voice filled with anger. "You never listened to your victims either." He raised his hands over his head and brought them swishing down, performing a complicated piece of wandless magic. The extreme force of the spell flung the terrified man out the nearest window into the waiting arms of a ministry official.  
  
Harry cursed. "What are you doing here?!?" He quickly appeared right in front of the offending Ministry official. The poor woman looked terrified. Her hands fumbled as she grabbed a portkey and vanished.  
  
"Not again!" Harry moaned. He clenched his fist. He would never live that down. Every time he went after a Death Eater, some Ministry idiot would be there to pick them up. He'd only killed someone once!  
  
He kicked the ground violently achieving nothing but a very painful big toe. He didn't even flinch. Pain could be controlled. It could only affect you if you let it. That's why it hurt to go to sleep. He let his guard down.  
  
He blew off a little more steam before appearing back home. He took a brief shower and then grabbed a pathetic supper. It really never mattered to him what he ate. His food's only job required it to keep him alive, after that, it really didn't matter. He reluctantly went to bed after he finished.  
  
The second he closed his eyes he saw everything that had happened. He swore and lay with his eyes open for as long as he could manage. Finally went into an uneasy sleep.  
  
"No please!" The Death Eater screamed. No! Harry had become the Death Eater!  
  
"Let me guess, you never listened to your victims either," said the figure above him.  
  
Harry caught a glimpse of red eyes. The figure raised a wand. Harry quickly summoned a shield charm to mind and uttered the spell that would save him. It didn't work. His powers had vanished!  
  
He felt himself blasted out the window and fell to the feet of yet another figure. He scrambled to him feet, desperate not to show signs of weakness. He looked into the face of his attacker.  
  
It was Ron. The face showed no rage, no fury or battle lust. It was pity.  
  
"Look what's happened to you," he said, his voice matching his eyes.  
  
Harry clenched his fist. "I don't need your pity!" He screamed. "I don't need anybody!"  
  
"But you do." Ron had morphed into Hermione. "You will always need someone. You deny it to yourself."  
  
"I hate you!" Harry screamed.  
  
Hermione didn't look hurt like Harry had expected. Her expression didn't change. She reached out her hand and touched Harry on the shoulder. There was a flash of bright light and Harry found himself at Hogwarts in his dormitory. He saw each of the 5 beds in the dorm.  
  
"Wake up, Harry! Presents!" a younger version of Ron Weasley appeared, sticking his head in the door.  
  
One of the curtains surrounding a bed moved. The occupant searched desperately for the divide in them. The curtains ripped open and Harry looked into the face of his younger self. He felt his heart ache. His childish face didn't have a care in the world. He jumped out of the bed and ran straight through Harry to the door. He paused right before he went out.  
  
"It's your fault, you know. You killed her. You lost them all." Then he grinned again and raced out of the room.  
  
Harry paled. He knew the truth. Harry had killed them. He had killed everyone. But that kind of pain got you killed. Harry closed his eye and took a deep breath.  
  
When he opened his eyes, the room had disappeared. He stood in front of Hermione again.  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry chocked out. "I didn't mean to!"  
  
"Yes you did," Hermione said, her eyes flashing. "You could have saved me! You killed me! You killed me!"  
  
Harry fell sobbing to his knees. "No!" He screamed. "No!" He put his head against the ground. "It was an accident! I wouldn't! I didn't mean to hurt you!"  
  
"But you did," said a soft voice in Harry's ear. Harry jerked his head up. Voldemort stood before him. "You killed the only ones you cared about. It's no wonder your parents didn't stick around long enough to raise you."  
  
"No," Harry whispered.  
  
"What? Do you honestly think you're a hero? Do you fancy yourself the famous and wonderful Harry Potter now?"  
  
"I don't!" Harry screamed. He felt the power course through him. He raised his hand and stumbled to his feet. He yelled the curse that would destroy his enemy and flew straight toward Voldemort. No! The curse shot at him! He was Voldemort! He was the murderer who all feared. He had killed everyone.  
  
"No."  
  
Harry sat up with a jerk just as the curse hit him. He yelled in agony. It felt as if every inch of his skin burned. He blocked it out of his mind. The sudden motion had jarred all the cuts and bruises he always forced himself to tune out.  
  
He flung his pillow across the room. "It wasn't my fault," he whispered, angrily. "I didn't mean to."  
  
* * *  
  
Harry woke up the next morning feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. He summoned one of his potions that he made for that very purpose, and consequently went through them very quickly. He drank it all to the last drop and felt the energy course though him. His didn't eat anything for breakfast. The potion gave all the strength that he needed. He changed into his day wear and pulled out one of his world maps.  
  
The maps resembled the Marauders Map in that they had small dots moving all over them. Except in this case, all the dots represented Death Eaters. A large cluster surrounded the island of Azkaban. He looked closer at the wizard prison. A small dot moved slowly across the lake. Harry smiled a little bit.  
  
"I suppose you didn't lie," Harry said to the dot. "You would escape."  
  
He grabbed his wand, which could come in handy at times for spells that couldn't be summoned by wandless magic, and vanished.  
  
Seconds later he appeared by the shore where the Azkaban prison could be seen. Sure enough, he saw a small raft coming towards him. Harry waved pleasantly at it, expecting it to try to turn around. Instead, the figure on it stood up. Harry could see Draco Malfoy's dirty, but still exceptionally blonde hair from there. The figure waved at him.  
  
"It's too late!" yelled the figure. "I'm already gone!"  
  
Harry's smile faded. He concentrated his mind on the figure on the raft. Harry's eyes flew open. It was an illusion conjured up by magic!  
  
Harry grinned again. "Nice try, Malfoy." When sensing the figure, he caught onto the trail of magic that a wand unavoidingly left when performing powerful magic. "God, could this guy get any stupider?" Harry thought as he smoothly transformed into a lion to follow the trail easier and swifter. He soon came to a break in the trail of magic. It went off in two directions. Harry transform right from the lion into a unicorn. He didn't particularly like unicorns, but they could sense magic a mile away. Yes, the stronger magic came from one direction. He followed the weaker path. He had felt the magic steadily getting weaker as he went on. The strong path seemed the obvious decoy.  
  
He ran so swiftly as a unicorn that any who might have seen him passing could only report a blur.  
  
He could sense strong magic up ahead. A wizard. He slowed his pace and changed back into a human. He crept toward where he knew to be a clearing. Voices floated out from it.  
  
"Give us another chance to renew our strength and grant us the time we desire. Let time be open to the chosen few!"  
  
Harry saw a flash of light in the clearing. He quickened his pace, making less noise than a field mouse. What the small clearing contained suddenly became apparent.  
  
A huge portal sat in the middle of the clearing with about ten people in Death Eater costumes standing around it, each holding what appeared to be a bag of herbs.  
  
One Death Eater walked forward and lowered its hood-Malfoy. "We have done it. Now we can undo what should not have happened." He dropped the bag of herbs and took a step toward it. He seemed to weaken without the herbs. Harry had felt a strange pressure on him when he saw the portal.  
  
"I am worthy!" Malfoy said, gasping. "Let me through!"  
  
There was a flash of light and Harry saw Malfoy thrown backwards.  
  
He landed on his back and scrambled to his feet. "No! I am worthy!"  
  
Harry made his move. "Sorry to break up the party, but I really do love strange portals, especially when they make idiots out of escape convicts."  
  
The Death Eaters snapped into action. They didn't even seem surprised to see him there. They had probably been expecting him from the beginning. They started throwing hexes at him. Harry changed into a cobra to be a harder target. He skidded under the Death Eater's legs, changing suddenly back into a human and stunning some before changing again and darting off somewhere else. One hit Malfoy right in the chest and he fell to the ground. Normally he would have simply cursed them all with one big curse, but portals were tricky business and if he didn't exercise caution, he could set off an explosion killing anyone within a 40 mile radius.  
  
Finally the Death Eaters lay stunned on the ground. Harry stepped in front of the portal and tried to remember how to removed one. He blocked out the world around him. Portals required undivided attention and if his mind wasn't fully concentrated on it, his attempts could end in his own horrible demise.  
  
"The service here has been fulfilled-" Harry began. He was stopped by a terrible pain in his back. He looked back and saw Draco Malfoy standing there, looking oddly older, with his wand pointed at Harry's back. He shot another spell at Harry. More pain accompanied the first.  
  
"You've ruined everything, Potter! But.not.this!" He shot another spell with each word. Harry stumbled forward. His vision blurred and everything darkened. He fell forward and heard Malfoy's scream of rage before everything went pitch black. 


	2. Back to Back Then

A/N: Chapter 2! I'm so excited! Anyway, I thought I should get straight to the point in the last chapter because I hate waiting on those stories that spend so much time trying to tell you about the world before whatever switch comes up that you get annoyed by the third chapter in which nothing has happened and go to a different story. Okay, so I ranted. But not much.  
  
Chapter 2: Back to Back Then  
  
Sit down, loose yourself in thought  
Then you might find it's all we've got  
Take a chance, the future's in your hands  
Make it what you can before our time has reached the end.  
  
-The Calling  
  
Harry woke up with a horrible pain in his back and an unfamiliar setting all around him. He struggled to his feet, glancing sharply around. This couldn't be right. How did he get here?  
  
The memories of the past night came back to him. Harry grimaced involuntarily. He had fallen. Had Malfoy just left him there? That didn't seem like him.  
  
He took another look at his surroundings. Everything appeared different. He could sense it. A dark magic hung in the air. He closed his eyes and concentrated on its source. He sped mentally after the magic trail, seeing everything through his shut eyes. The trail came to an end in front of a pair of evil red eyes. They searched for him. They knew about him. They tried to find him.  
  
Harry jerked his eyes open and nearly staggered to the ground. Voldemort was here! Voldemort had been resurrected! Malfoy had left him here for the Dark Lord to get him! Malfoy had brought Voldemort back!  
  
Harry took a deep breath, stopping the insane thoughts that fought to drive him into a panic. That could never happen. Voldemort couldn't come back. It would take someone with a lot more power than Malfoy to get through all the charms, hexes, and curses Harry had placed around any magic that might even slightly be able to do that. But the eyes. Harry knew those eyes. They haunted his dreams every time he went to sleep.  
  
Harry snapped to attention of his surroundings. He heard noises.laughter. This wasn't evil laughter. This was real laughter. Harry winced. It had been so long.  
  
A group of teenage girls came walking down the path. They paused when they saw Harry.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Harry didn't answer. He stared at them, determining their intent. He didn't sense magic. They were Muggles.  
  
"I am Harry Potter."  
  
"Better question," one girl said. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Better question," Harry said a small smirk appearing on his face, mocking her. "What can you do to extract the information?"  
  
The girl locked her jaw in annoyance. "I think I'm the one who can ask questions. You are on my land."  
  
Harry laughed. It didn't compare to the easy, carefree laughter of the girl's. This laughter reflected the laugher-one who has seen far too much and if forced to see the humor in things that have none. The girls looked at each other uneasily.  
  
"You don't own this land," Harry said, stopping the eerie laughter abruptly. "He owns it. Just as He will own everything. You have no idea what you're talking about." Harry looked them straight in the eye and snapped his fingers. He disappeared.  
  
He appeared seconds later at the Ministry of Magic grinning to himself. Very little brought him pleasure nowadays, but he enjoyed irritating the Ministry by breaking the Decree of Wizarding Secrecy every once in a while. And they irritated so easily.  
  
He walked into the front doors and went straight to the Department in control of protecting the very law he had just broken.  
  
"Two Muggles need a memory charm," he said to the man behind the desk. He didn't recognize him, but they seemed to change every once in a while.  
  
"What happened?" The man asked without looking up.  
  
"I Apparated in front of them."  
  
The man looked up, exasperated. He paused at the sight of Harry. "Who are you?"  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
"Listen here," he said, standing up. "I really don't care who you are. You should know better than to do this sort of thing! We have enough on our hands then having to watch over you and your hooligan friends who-" He stopped suddenly by the look on Harry's face.  
  
"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" Harry said in a voice of deathly calm.  
  
"I-I-no. Should I?" He faltered, intimidated as everyone was by the aurora of power Harry gave off when he became angry.  
  
"Yes," Harry said. "After all, I only saved this entire pathetic world more times than once." Harry faltered this time. He had caught a glimpse of the calendar. 1998. "Or I will."  
  
* * *  
  
"Some guy came in," said the head in Dumbledore's fireplace. "He said two Muggles who needed a memory charm. Said he Apparated right in front of them! Now I know what you're thinking," the man said. "But he didn't look like any Death Eater I've ever seen. He had a mighty amount of power though. I could feel it and I'm not the best at telling these sorts of things."  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "And you didn't recognize him? What did he look like?"  
  
"Black hair.amazing emerald eyes. That's about it really."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you. Check in if he makes another appearance."  
  
The man hesitated.  
  
"Is there something else?"  
  
"I don't know if it's relevant. I mean, he could have been a raving lunatic. But he seemed to think I should have known him."  
  
"Did he now? Did he say why?"  
  
"I asked, and he said that he had saved the world more than once. I have to admit, with the power that guy had, I actually believed him. But then he looked past me and kind of muttered something. Then he looked at me again and quickly Disapparated."  
  
"Disapparated? But there is a spell blocking any form of Apparition around the Ministry."  
  
"There is, isn't there?" the man looked thoughtful. "But this guy had power. I didn't even think it unusual when I saw it. I felt kind of relieved too. He intimidated me a little. I wouldn't put it past him to Apparate right in there!"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you for the warning."  
  
The man nodded, seeing the dismissal. His head disappeared with a small pop.  
  
Dumbledore sat back in his chair and rubbed his temple. He had sensed the same presence earlier. Another problem.  
  
He sat up quickly. He sensed someone's presence in the room.  
  
A man stepped into the light. Dumbledore managed to hide a startled exclamation. It looked like Harry.  
  
"I know what you're thinking," the man said. "But I'm not who you think I am."  
  
Dumbledore looked at him. The Ministry official had been right. This man did have power.lots of it. Dumbledore gave him his piercing gaze. He saw the man's eyes.Lily's eyes. They were nothing. They looked like mirrors, reflecting everything but showing nothing of what lay beyond.  
  
The man seemed to know what Dumbledore tried to do and instead of turning away as seemed almost customary with anyone who got into range of the gaze, he looked straight into his eyes and smirked.  
  
"How did you get in here?" Dumbledore asked abruptly.  
  
"I didn't Apparate if that's what you're thinking," the man said with a smirk. "I've been in here for quite some time. I simply didn't wish to be seen."  
  
"Why have you come?"  
  
"To business then," the man said. "I thought you should know. Voldemort's searching for me. He knows." the man stopped and shook his head. "He felt me coming, as you did. Do not worry for my safety. Do not worry about me falling to the Dark Lord. Your concern is for the boy."  
  
"Harry."  
  
"No, Ron," the man said with another smirk.  
  
"Who are you if you are not Harry Potter?"  
  
"I am already beyond your help," the man said shortly. "And I do not need help. I need a way home. I can find that on my own. I'm here to lift a strain. I know what it's like to know one too many things."  
  
The door opened suddenly. The man whipped around. Hermione Granger, prefect, walked in. Dumbledore saw the man's shield drop like a stone. He had been hurt. He knew all that could happen, all that would. He had seen loved ones die around him and be powerless to stop it. Dumbledore saw self blame and self inflicted emotional torture.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, embarrassed. "I didn't hear anyone in here-I- where did he go?"  
  
The man had disappeared.  
  
Hermione looked shocked. "How did he do that? No one can Apparate in the Hogwart's grounds!"  
  
"No," Dumbledore said softly. "No one can."  
  
A/N: Okay, for all those who are thinking, 'No one can Apparate inside the Hogwarts ground!' You're completely right and everything will be revealed in later chapters. I'm not sure which one. One of them.  
  
Gilthas: That's brilliant.  
  
Me: Shut up. I thought muses were supposed to encourage.  
  
Gilthas: See now, you've always thought that when the reality is, the muse is supposed to inspire. I don't have to encourage to inspire.  
  
Me: Well, if you don't be more encouraging about my first story, I'll use Drizzt from Forgotten Realms as my name instead of you.  
  
Drizzt: Yay!  
  
Me: Hey! You're a dark elf! You're supposed to scowl.  
  
Drizzt: *scowls*  
  
Me: Excellent. All is right with the world. Oh, and readers, Please review the newbie author's story!!! 


	3. Back to Hogwarts

A/N: Yay! I got reviews! I was told repeatedly that it was rather confusing, but I think it will all become clearer in time.  
  
Gilthas: What is confusing?  
  
Me: Everything.  
  
Gil: Oh. *sulks*  
  
Me: Right. On with the story then.  
  
Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts  
  
And if this night won't let me rest,  
Don't let me second guess what I know to be real  
Put away all I know tonight and maybe I just might  
Learn to let it go  
  
-Life House  
  
"Someone else has come to join in our little game. Someone who can change all the rules."  
  
Harry sat in an armchair facing the fire.  
  
"Indeed?" asked the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. She stood somewhere behind him.  
  
"Indeed yes," Harry said. "Though finding him should be quite a challenge."  
  
"Who is this person of whom you speak?" Lestrange asked. "I could send a search party now-"  
  
"Nonsense, Bellatrix," Harry said. "He will come to us."  
  
"Who is this person?" Bellatrix asked.  
  
"You know him quite well I believe, or you did," Harry said, amusement in his voice. "Now he's come back to turn the tide of the war. How very noble of him."  
  
"Then he is on their side?" Bellatrix asked. "Forgive me for my ignorance, master, but wouldn't we want to destroy him if he is as important as you say?"  
  
"He is important," Harry said. "But I have yet to learn what I need to of him. You must have patience, Bellatrix."  
  
"Please, master, who is it of whom you speak? You say I should know him, but I do not."  
  
"Ah, but you do," Harry said. "He is Harry Potter himself."  
  
"Harry Potter, my Lord?" Lestrange asked, obviously confused. "I do not understand-"  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
Lestrange fell to the ground, writhing in pain. She lay there only a minute before Voldemort removed his wand. "I do not tolerate ignorance," Harry said. "But I will answer your question. This is a very different person. He knows all that can be. I can use him."  
  
"But you do not wish for me to send a team-"  
  
"No," Harry said harshly. "I do not like to repeat myself, Bellatrix. It would be a waste of energy to send a team. With enough...persuasion he will come to us."  
  
The dream changed.  
  
Harry fell to the ground thoroughly exhausted. He could lie there forever. He didn't want to get up. His muscles ached. Dozens of Cruciatus Curses lost there effect as Harry threatened to loose consciousness.  
  
He struggled to his feet. He couldn't quit now. Too much lay on the line.  
  
Voldemort too looked a mess. He no longer smiled. His red eyes had lost their red glow and seemed now a dim shadow of their old selves. He looked bad. Harry looked the worse.  
  
Voldemort raised his wand again. Harry took a step back. His leg would no longer support his weight. His knees crumpled beneath him. It was all too much.  
  
From a long way off, Harry heard Voldemort shout the words to a spell. Sweet oblivion engulfed him.  
  
The pain vanished. Nothing hurt. The world seemed perfect.  
  
Kill the girl. said a voice in his head.  
  
Harry picked up his wand and prepared to obey.  
  
No! Screamed the voice in his head. Stop! But it sounded weak, too weak to make much of an effort. No.  
  
Harry obediently pointed his wand at the girl.  
  
"No, Harry! I know this isn't you! You have to fight it! No!"  
  
That voice. It sounded strangely familiar. Harry hesitated a second. You know her, the voice said, making a last, valiant effort. You know her! You can't kill her!  
  
Kill the girl.  
  
Harry raised his wand. The voice quieted. Nothing remained. Nothing.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
A scream pierced the night.  
  
Harry woke with a yell. "Hermione."  
  
He cursed, angry with himself for his constant weakness. He stood up from the bed that he rented the previous day in some Muggle hotel. He went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face.  
  
He wiped off his face with a towel and caught his reflection in the mirror. He had bags under his eyes and he forcibly reminded himself of Remus Lupin. Maybe the reason had to do with his being back in time, but he seemed to be having worse dreams than usual. Just seeing Hermione alive again had brought back a wave of memories. He took a deep breath and went back and sat on the bed.  
  
He had long ago given up feeling sorry for himself. He no longer asked, 'why me?' or 'why couldn't have Voldemort just have gone away?' This was life. The longer he remembered the past, the longer he got himself left behind in it. Unfortunately, it seemed that the more Harry tried to forget the past, the more the past tried to remind him. Of course, this seemed very ironic now that he had literally entered the past. He smiled a little to himself-the same and only smile he had ever smiled since that fateful night-the ironic, sarcastic smile. He no longer remembered what being happy felt like.  
  
Harry turned on his heel and swept out of the bathroom. He changed quickly and threw a cloak about his shoulders. He had something that needed done.  
  
* * *  
  
"You mean he Apparated?" Harry asked blankly. "But you said no one could Apparate or Disapparate in the Hogwarts grounds!"  
  
"I know I did!" Hermione snapped. "That's because you can't!"  
  
"Then where did he go?" Ron asked. They seemed past exhaustion. They had pulled another all-nighter and hadn't had a drop of sleep.  
  
"Just tell us what happened again," Harry said, exceptionally glad he hadn't seen it and been forced to tell the story this time.  
  
"I already told you," Hermione said impatiently. "I had just walked in and a man stood there, talking to Dumbledore. He turned around when I walked in and when he saw me, he disappeared."  
  
"But you didn't hear him in there," Ron persisted.  
  
"No," Hermione said.  
  
"It must have been a spell," Harry said. "He and Dumbledore must have been talking. I doubt they just stood there, staring at each other."  
  
"There are silencing charms," Hermione said slowly. "But I've been through some Auror training and I didn't feel anything."  
  
"I hate to say this, Hermione," Ron said grinning. "But you're not quite that good yet."  
  
"Ron's right," Harry agreed. "If you didn't concentrate, you could have missed something."  
  
Hermione sighed. "I suppose you're right." She stood up. "I'm going to bed. See you in." She stopped. A third year girl had just come down the steps.  
  
"Oh, hello," she said awkwardly. "I didn't know anyone else got up this early."  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other.  
  
"And we didn't know we stayed up this late," Ron said. "I'm out of here."  
  
Harry and Ron went up the boys' staircase and Hermione went up hers. Harry lay awake a little while longer before drifting off to sleep.  
  
The dream resembled others before it. Harry was Voldemort. He talked to Lestrange, Sirius's murderer.  
  
.With enough...persuasion he will come to us."  
  
Then the dream changed.  
  
Voldemort had disappeared. He saw Hogsmeade. Everyone seemed to be celebrating on the streets. Spirits rose and the children laughed. But in a small corner he saw a dark figure. A cloak wrapped around him as if to shield the light from himself, as if to keep away the happiness. Harry saw his own face exactly as it looked now. Except that it looked completely different. Then he noticed the lines, lines that could only be from constant suffering. But the eyes drew the attention. They had lost their startling green, only to be replaced with a dull and haunted appearance.  
  
He stood in a house. Harry didn't recognize it. A man sat in it, writing on a piece of parchment. The door suddenly burst open in a blast of green light. The man looked terrified. He looked as if Voldemort himself had come knocking. A figure walked in. The dust cleared. Harry mouth opened in astonishment. It looked like himself.  
  
The man tried to make a run for it. The older version of Harry waved his hand and the man stopped. His legs wouldn't move. He frantically tried to move his legs with his arms but they seemed to be both immobilized and glued to the floor.  
  
"No!" He cried out in desperation. "Someone help me! Please!"  
  
"But no one came," said the older version of Harry in a voice of deathly calm. "Because they were all dead."  
  
For a horrifying moment, Harry thought it had been he, Harry, who had killed them, but then he spoke again.  
  
"And you laughed along with the rest of them because you fought on the winning side. You thought yourself unbeatable-too cowardly to fight back!"  
  
"No," the man whispered.  
  
"What's wrong? Do you suddenly regret your decision? Do you wish now that you hadn't killed all those people? WELL IT'S TOO LATE!" The future Harry advanced upon the man. He struggled more violently against his frozen legs. It looked as if hell itself followed close on his heals.  
  
"Because it's always too late to change the past," the older Harry said in a deathly quiet whisper. "You're finished."  
  
He had appeared in a place completely unfamiliar to him. Everything seemed like bliss-perfect.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
The scream cut short as the curse hit. The bliss vanished. Harry stared in horror at the dead body of Hermione. The horrible realization of what he had done hit him. He had killed her! He had murdered his best friend!  
  
The next second lasted forever. Hermione's face looked petrified, her eyes blank and staring.  
  
A curse hit him. White hot knives deadened at the sight of his friend. He could no longer feel the pain.  
  
One thought penetrated his brain. Voldemort would die. He, Harry, would kill him.  
  
"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted. The curse hit Harry again. But Harry felt nothing, his body beyond pain. His body meant nothing to him. It could hurt if it wanted to, as long as it completed its task. Then he would rest. Then he would sleep.  
  
Harry took several leaden steps toward Voldemort. He raised his wand and brought it swishing down over his head, shouting a curse.  
  
He stood on a hill over looking a Muggle town. If anything remained, it didn't seem worth having. Everything lay in ruin. Bodies littered the streets. Harry looked on without flinching.  
  
"I'm too late," he muttered, never blinking at the horrific sight before him. He sighed, "Again."  
  
Harry sat up straight, his breathing heavy. Everything he had seen burned in his memory. He closed his eyes, trying to push the image of Hermione out of his head. It was just a dream.just a dream.  
  
"Harry?" asked the groggy voice from a different bed. "You alright?"  
  
"I'm fine," Harry whispered back. "Go back to sleep, Ron."  
  
Not being needed to be told twice, Ron slept within seconds, but Harry showed no signs of sleeping. He sat there for a moment, trying to force the images out of his head, not daring to close his eyes again. On top of everything else, this seemed too much.  
  
After a little longer, Harry closed his eyes and saw nothing but the comforting blackness that promised nothing but rest. Forcing himself to relax, Harry cleared his mind in hopes sleep would quickly claim him. 10 long minutes later, exhaustion overcame the fear of nightmares and he slept soundly again.  
  
Watching from his place in the shadows, his only true home, the owner of the haunting nightmares disappeared with a violent twist of his cloak.  
  
A/N: Wow, confusing much? Basically what it's saying is that both Harry's are having each others dreams. Ug.that's important later. Despite the fact I promised myself I would go slow in the updating, I got reviews! And that makes me happy. So I'll go ahead and put out the next chapter after this one. Though I've frequently been told that begging doesn't become me, please review! 


	4. Back to Diagon Alley

A/N: Next chapter! Oh, and I want to point out that I'm still figuring some things out and I recently realized that most of the stuff I originally put in italics is, in fact, not in italics. I'm jut going to go with it for now and if it gets terribly confusing, just tell me. I'll try to do something to correct it.  
  
Chapter 4: Back to Diagon Alley  
  
It's all shallow and all so appealing  
I'm up to my ankles and I'm drowning anyway  
In a sea of sarcastic faces, familiar places  
Where everything looks quite the same here  
It's all confusingly amusing, bitter and tainted  
The picture you painted to me  
  
-Life House  
  
He moved again. Any day now he could run into a pack of Death Eaters, waiting to bring them to their master-waiting to catch the weak person they expected.  
  
Harry smirked to himself. Sometimes he almost wished they would catch him, just to see the looks on their faces when Harry walked away from their bound and gagged forms unharmed.  
  
His visit to his younger self had been completely unplanned. Even now he couldn't quite explain why he'd gone in the first place. He had awoken from his sleep with the old visions of Voldemort's actions echoing in his head and wondering if perhaps the dreams did not belong to him. His visit to the dormitory proved as much.  
  
Harry had awoken that morning aching all over and in an exceptionally bad mood from lack of sleep. He forced down some breakfast in the hotel lobby and went to check out. He couldn't be in the same spot twice-he couldn't be caught. Voldemort knew he existed and that alone seemed far too much. Any amount of powerful magic could be felt by all those with enough power. He had no doubt he had sensed his dramatic entrance, not to mention the undisguised power that had undoubtedly radiated off him like some sort of beacon before he had regained consciousness.  
  
He Apparated around for a while, making sure his trail would be difficult to follow if anyone came close to tracking him. He finally Apparated to Diagon Alley to find a book explaining how to open another portal and take him back to his own time.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
Harry glanced up, amused. "Help? Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks."  
  
"Are you sure? Is there something in particular you're looking for?"  
  
Harry decided to humor this annoying saleswoman. "Yeah, I'm looking for a book on time-travel."  
  
"Ah," the woman said knowingly. "Trying to undo a mistake? You might be careful about that sort of thing. Rewriting time is tricky business-"  
  
"-Thanks for the warning," Harry said, cutting her off. "But I'm not going back in time."  
  
The woman looked confused just as Harry had known she would. "I'm not sure we have anything-"  
  
"-I'll just look a little longer on my own then, shall I?" Harry said. He pulled down another book and opened it to a random page. "Time-Turners, Frozen-for-a-Moment Lasting Moment potion." Harry read down the Table of Contents, dismissing the woman without words. She took the hint.  
  
When he saw no one near enough to see anything, he muttered a quick spell. Three books on the shelves began to glow. He quickly grabbed these three books and took them to the counter.  
  
"Is this everything?" asked the saleswoman.  
  
"Yes," Harry said impatiently.  
  
The woman wrote a receipt and put it in the bag along with Harry's three books. Harry only realized then that he had no money. Summoning money from his Gringotts account, Harry flicked his wrist, and a few galleons appeared in his open palm.  
  
He was just heading to the Apothecary to buy the ingredients for his energy potion (which he found actually had more effect than he had previously noticed) when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, a defensive spell on his lips to face the owner of the offending hand.  
  
"Excuse me," said a woman dressed in Muggle clothing. "I'm very sorry about this, but I'm having a spot of trouble finding my way around and you seem to know where everything is. I wonder if you could point me in the direction of Grin-gotts."  
  
"Down the street," Harry said stiffly, not used to be spoken to like an ordinary stranger. "It's a big marble building. You can't miss it."  
  
"Thank you!" The woman said happily. She skipped off in the other direction.  
  
Harry turned on his heal and continued to the apothecary wondering about the strange-yet probably perfectly ordinary-behavior.  
  
A sudden, desperate wish to return to his own time seized him, but he pushed it away as well. Carelessness could be the only result of rashness. He had to take everything one thing at a time.  
  
Life certainly didn't look very good at the moment. Maybe he could pay someone to look up that spell for him.He hated studying.  
  
He sighed as he reached the Apothecary. Things were different. He'd probably have to wait in line. He entered and looked around for the ingredients needed for the potions he made to make up for his lack of sleep.  
  
He had no sooner struggled through the crowd to his first ingredient, armadillo bile, when he felt another hand on his shoulder. He whirled around but saw no one. Concentrating on the place the hand had doubtlessly been, he caught a vague trial of magic. It had a spell on it. Frowning and concentrating harder, Harry identified the tale-tell trace of a charm to move faster. This person's attempt to lure him somewhere seemed very pathetic.  
  
Harry sighed. Probably a Death Eater. It would seem he had been slacking off in his attempt to keep them off his trail.  
  
Turning around, he felt the anticipated hand on his shoulder again. Closing his eyes, he felt the magic speeding outside. Turning around he walked out of the apothecary. He knew good and well that he was being led into a probably poorly done trap.  
  
The hand came to his shoulder again. He followed it, moving as fast as it now, to a small alley where he met, face to face, with the hand's unfortunate keeper. The person looked surprised to see him there so suddenly that Harry found his grim humor in the look on her face-Bellatrix Lestrange.  
  
She recovered quickly. A smile played on her lips. "Ah, look! The little bitty Harry Potter is all grown up!" She used that baby voice yet again. The whole concept of his being helpless seemed so ludicrous to Harry that he threw his head back and laughed. Laughing did not appear to be the anticipated results. Harry could tell that without trying. Pathetic. She wore every emotion right on her sleeve. Foolish woman. She seemed hardly worth his time.  
  
"What's wrong, Lestrange?" Harry asked, his laughter dying out. "Don't try to tell me that you don't see the humor in this!"  
  
"I see nothing funny!" Bellatrix snarled. She snapped her fingers and 3 other figures materialized from the shadows where Harry had already sensed them. Despite the amused look Harry still wore on his face, Bellatrix's confidence seemed to have doubled. "My master would like a word with you."  
  
"Then perhaps he should go to Azkaban to wait for you," Harry returned pleasantly. "Because when I'm done with you, the officials will find your unconscious forms first and take you straight back to that hell hole. It would probably be a whole lot easier for Voldemort to simply break you out before they place all those hexes and defensive spells on your prison cell."  
  
"I'm afraid you over estimate your abilities," Bellatrix said, obviously barely even hearing what Harry was saying. "I've seen you in action. I know what you're capable of doing. It's pathetic. You don't stand a chance."  
  
"That's where you're wrong," Harry said. "Because when I attack, you still won't be able to boast that you've seen me in action, because your pathetic reflexes are so slow, your eyes probably won't even be able to follow me."  
  
Bellatrix looked livid at the insult. "I'm only going to give you one more chance because my master seems convinced that you will come on your own. I will not-"  
  
"Your master is a fool," Harry said bluntly. "He has no idea what I can do. He has no idea what he's up against and he sent his most worthless followers to find out for him."  
  
"You'll pay for that!" Bellatrix said. She appeared ridiculously angry. She appeared to be so completely off her game that Harry couldn't even look forward to such a fight, but Bellatrix had finished talking. Raising her wand, she shouted her curse. It hit the empty place Harry had been standing seconds before and exploded into the wall.  
  
"Nice shot," Harry said sarcastically from his new position-directly behind her. "Try this on for size." Grabbing her shoulder, he summoned electricity. It shot through her body, paralyzing her. When he removed his hand she fell unconscious to the ground.  
  
"Now," Harry said, completely unfazed. He turned to the other three. They had been so confident before. "Any questions? A challenge perhaps?"  
  
The three other Death Eaters appeared torn between fear of Harry and fear of their master's anger. The latter of the two won out. Three hexes shot at Harry's head. Morphing smoothly into a cobra, the spells went over his head. Harry then morphed directly from the snake into a giant Nundu.  
  
Only one of the wizards seemed to recognize it. He yelled and tried to run while the other two, thinking it a mere Muggle leopard, started shouting curses.  
  
"Get back here!" Yelled one of the Death Eaters still fighting. "Master will be displeased!"  
  
The man stopped in his tracks, he took a terrified look at Harry's Nundu form that dodged the spells with considerable ease and, deciding it better not to endure his master's wrath, returned to the fight.  
  
Harry landed in front of them and allowed the men to hit him with a curse. The curse had no effect, since his hide was close to impervious against many magics. Harry stumbled for a moment, as though injured. The Death Eaters dropped their guard. Harry pounced.  
  
He knocked two of them down and allowed his momentum to carry his past them. He rolled to his feet at the same time the other two got to theirs while the man still standing shot a useless spell at him.  
  
Harry felt his stomach churning. Seconds later, a small amount of poisonous fumes shot out of his mouth and straight at the Death Eaters. They stood there for a moment and then, as one, fell to the ground unconscious.  
  
Deciding it would look bad on his already tarnished record to leave them to die of the disease that the fumes inflicted, he morphed to human and yelled, "Someone come quick! These people are injured!" People ran in from the street.  
  
Yells of, "Someone call St. Mungos!" and, "We need a doctor!" filled the air as people looked in to find out what had happened. In all the confusion Harry slipped silently and unnoticed from the scene.  
  
A/N: Another chapter done! My friend told me she thinks Harry is too powerful, but think about it! He's had 10 years to get more powerful. Plus, I'm thinking that after he learns how to become an Animagus the first time, it should be easier the next and eventually he learned a variety of different ones that could help in different battle situations. Anyway.yeah.that's it really. Review! 


	5. Back to the Order

A/N: Next chapter is up! Yeah... that's about it really. Read on.  
  
Chapter 5: Back to the Order  
  
I hear the thunder in the distance  
See a vision of a cross  
I feel the pain that was given  
On that sad day of loss  
  
-Creed  
  
Deciding after the attack that he had better get a better idea what occurred in the world at the moment, Harry thought he should probably sit in on one of the Order of the Phoenix meetings. That is, he should probably secretly eavesdrop. He had thought Bellatrix Lestrange long dead.  
  
Finding his way to number twelve Grimwald place proved easier than expected. He had always had to get around the barriers in his time, but he found he could simply walk up to it and walk in. He had been invited in, after all, with Dumbledore as secret keeper. In his reality, when Dumbledore died, no one had bothered to invite him back.  
  
The completely deserted house disappointed him. He actually felt the smallest of empty holes inside at the sight of this. He had half hoped that in this time, his godfather had not yet died.  
  
Harry wasn't put off though. He knew for a fact that that Order of the Phoenix still used the house for meetings. He vaguely remembered his outrage at the idea of holding the meetings in Sirius's old house. He had felt it had dishonored his memory. But that didn't matter now. Nothing like that mattered now.  
  
He stood completely still in the corner, hidden in shadows under a disillusionment charm. He lost track of time, waiting there without moving. He only knew that, by the time someone finally entered, it did not hold the record for the very longest he had ever waited.  
  
Molly Weasley entered the room in her usual manner, with a smile on her face and a plate of snacks in one hand. Harry felt a small twang inside him again. He frowned. He hadn't felt anything like that for so many years that it seemed to be even more uncomfortable than he remembered. He hadn't expected to be effected like this.  
  
He pushed his feelings away as usual. He frowned more than before. He did not fully appreciate the thing happening at all.  
  
"Good evening," said a quiet voice. Remus Lupin entered the room. Harry glared, willing that uncomfortable feeling to come back. He received small satisfaction in the fact that he had effectively pushed it away.  
  
"Good evening, Remus," Molly said. "Would you like something to eat? I've made plenty."  
  
"Yes, please," Remus said, seating himself at the table. "Has anyone else arrived as of yet?"  
  
"Only you," Molly said pleasantly. "Arthur went to Hogsmeade today to watch over everything. This weekend the group went to Hogsmeade, you know."  
  
"Yes," Remus said. He smiled a little. "Harry wouldn't be too pleased to know we're still following him."  
  
Harry smirked. He hadn't been.  
  
"I don't see why not," Molly said, frowning. "It's for his own good."  
  
"He knows that as well as you do, Molly," Remus said. "He just isn't used to people looking after him. He can take perfectly good care of himself in normal conditions. He just doesn't know what he's up against yet."  
  
Harry frowned. No, he had had no idea what he was up against.  
  
The door opened. Snape walked in. He didn't look happy. "Is Dumbledore here yet?" he snapped.  
  
"No," Remus said amiably. "He isn't. Would you like something to eat? Molly has prepared-"  
  
"No," Snape said flatly. "I have something important to say. I need Dumbledore here. He had better not be late. He always is. I can't believe him. You would think he would learn what time the meeting start."  
  
"Wow," said a gruff voice from the doorway. "You just sucked the fun out of the room." Tonks had arrived.  
  
"If you had important information every once in a while, then perhaps you too would appreciate promptness," Snape said silkily. Tonks frowned but said nothing.  
  
People slowly started to arrive. Harry never made any move from where he stood concealed in the corner. The room had very nearly filled by the time Dumbledore arrived. Snape made a move to speak but Dumbledore held up a hand. "In a moment, Severus. At least let me sit down."  
  
Snape frowned but returned to his chair. When every last chair was full, Dumbledore called order. "I see we're all here. Let us begin with Severus. He seems to have something on his mind."  
  
Snape stood up. "An attack at Diagon Alley."  
  
"Death Eaters?" Mad-Eye Moody asked.  
  
"The attack involved them, certainly," Snape said. "But it would seem that they got the short end of the stick this time."  
  
"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked, but he didn't look surprised.  
  
"I would hope that everyone in the room knows what the Nundu is," Snape said. When no one said otherwise, he continued. "One, Bellatrix Lestrange, had been knocked unconscious previously. They described her condition as, 'It appears that she stuck her finger in a Muggle electrical socket'. The other three, however, achieved an unconscious state by 'a kind of, as yet, unidentified poisonous gas that not only knocked them out, but infected them with a fast acting disease that they were quickly being eating alive from the inside'."  
  
"And you suspect the Nundu did it?" Tonks asked. "But they're native to East Africa."  
  
"The symptoms are the same," Snape said coldly. "And considering the fact that one person did not have the disease, but undoubtedly belonged to the group attacked, I believe a wizard controlled the creature."  
  
"It would require powerful spells for something like that," Remus said skeptically.  
  
"They're very dangerous," Snape said. "But there have been reports of the African people taming them. It might not have been a spell at all."  
  
"It sounds like they're on our side," Arthur Weasley said. "I mean to say, better to have them on our side then against us."  
  
"This is an unknown person or persons," Snape said. "We don't know who it is. The person could possibly be picking randomly. We can't assume anything."  
  
They continued to argue, but Harry watched Dumbledore. He hadn't said a word as of yet. He looked deep in thought. When the arguing finally died down, all heads turned to Dumbledore to see what he thought.  
  
No wonder they quickly became lost without him, Harry found himself thinking. Look at them. Pathetic.  
  
"We can't assume anything yet," Dumbledore said at last. "This person may have been attacked and the Death Eaters' conditions due to self-defense only. Severus, has Voldemort been up to anything lately?"  
  
"He has been," Severus said. "But he's really not talking about it. I think he suspects there might be a spy among his troops."  
  
"What are your thoughts?" Moody asked.  
  
"There is too little information to make any reasonable assumptions yet," Dumbledore said simply. Harry's eyes narrowed. Dumbledore hid something that he didn't want to share with the others. "Tell me if you hear anything else. Is there any other order of business?"  
  
The meeting continued. "Harry's weekend proved uneventful," Arthur said.  
  
"Ah, yes," Snape said silkily. "How is our favorite little boy?"  
  
Molly frowned but said nothing. Arthur continued as if he had never been interrupted. "Nothing of interest happened. He went to the Shrieking Shack, The Three Broomsticks, and Zonko's."  
  
"Perfect," Snape said acidly. "He probably picked up a few more fireworks to throw into random cauldrons during class."  
  
"That's enough, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "Excellent. Now, how are things at the Ministry?"  
  
Harry only vaguely heard the response. He concentrated hard to remember that weekend. He remembered almost everything that happened during the year before his fight with Voldemort and he didn't really remember a Hogsmeade weekend in which nothing occurred.  
  
Figuring its importance minimal, he turned his attention back to the meeting. Assignments had been distributed. Snape groaned when he heard his.  
  
"Who wrote the assignments this week?" he snapped. "Why would anyone possibly put me on babysitting?"  
  
"I thought perhaps you needed to spend a little more time with 'our favorite little boy'," Dumbledore said, his beard twitching.  
  
"Oh, but Dumbledore!" Snape said. "What could I possibly do? You know I can't be in the same room as him! Look what happened last time you did this to me! Occlemency didn't exactly turn out to be his favorite class."  
  
"The assignments are made," Dumbledore said firmly. "This meeting is adjourned."  
  
As everyone got up to leave, Harry found himself even more confused. Snape had never been assigned to him. He could understand not remembering an uneventful Hogsmeade trip, but he knew that he would remember a week with Snape.  
  
Dumbledore didn't move from his seat as the others left the room. Snape glared at him before exiting, but Dumbledore didn't seem to notice. When the last person left, Dumbledore got up and walked over to the door. Pulling out his wand and waving it once, the door locked and a spell covered the room, making anyone on the outside unable to hear what happened within.  
  
"I know you're there," Dumbledore said calmly when he had resumed his seat. "No one can come in. I suggest you come out."  
  
Harry lifted the charms he had placed over himself. "How did you know?" he asked, though he thought he knew the answer.  
  
"You can make yourself invisible, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly, "But by doing so you leave an obvious trace of magic in the air that can easily be tracked if one looks for it."  
  
"Indeed," Harry said simply.  
  
"I suppose you caught the Death Eaters in Diagon Alley today," Dumbledore said conversationally.  
  
"They bothered me. I attacked in self defense. They seem more feeble than I remember."  
  
"Perhaps you are simply more powerful," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Don't play your mind tricks with me, Dumbledore," Harry said shortly. "I already know I'm more powerful. Contrary to the Harry you know, I don't need to be told everything before I know it to be true."  
  
"Then why haven't you figured it out yet?" Dumbledore asked, his face expressionless.  
  
"Figured what out?" Harry asked.  
  
"That you being here is not an accident. You have the ability to change the past if you wish to do so."  
  
"What would I change?" Harry asked shortly. "When the final battle comes, it will not be I who stands there. It will be the Harry you know. And without the events that occur here, he would not have the ability to do what he did."  
  
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, searching his robes for something. "Then perhaps you have once again underestimated yourself."  
  
"I don't need this from you," Harry said shortly. "I have my own life now, and I'm going to get back."  
  
"Back to what?" Dumbledore said, pausing in his search to look at Harry with those piercing blue eyes. "From what I can tell, you have nothing left."  
  
"I have everything I need!" Harry said coldly. "And that's more than I ever had here!"  
  
"Ah, you know that to be untrue," Dumbledore said. "Ah!" He pulled something from his robes and popped it into his mouth. He held another one out to Harry who frowned. "Sherbet Lemon?"  
  
"No," Harry said coldly. "And what are you talking about? I have nothing here. Everything I thought I had will be gone within the month; at the end of this year, I'm going to be left on the ground, forgotten, for three days, drifting in and out of consciousness until I am found by Muggles. Don't say I have everything I need."  
  
A flicker of emotion flashed over Dumbledore's face when he heard this. Harry scowled but did not look away. "I'm not asking for your pity. I've gotten over it. That should be good enough for you."  
  
"I might have been," Dumbledore said softly. "Had I not known this to be a lie."  
  
"You know nothing," Harry said shortly. "You don't have any idea about what is to come."  
  
"I know that is has forced you to push away your very humanity," Dumbledore said quietly, surveying Harry over his half moon spectacles. "I can therefore assume that you lost everything you held dear to you. This is war, Harry, but even in war, such a thing should not happen."  
  
"But it did. It will happen. It has happened; it's too late to stop it. Everyone 'that I hold dear' is dead. I killed them." He hadn't meant to say the last line. It had sort of slipped out. Dumbledore seemed to realize this.  
  
"You did not kill them," Dumbledore said fiercely. "Voldemort did."  
  
"And I suppose that by holding my wand to their heart and yelling, 'Avada Kedavra', it doesn't mean I killed them," Harry said coldly. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."  
  
"But I know you," Dumbledore said. He hadn't even flinched at Harry's last line. "And I know that you would never do such a thing."  
  
"You don't know me. You never will."  
  
"But I do know the you that belongs in this time, and it's that Harry; that less capable Harry, if you please, that must suffer through it all. I know him. I know that he always follows his heart."  
  
"And just look at all the people I've killed already," Harry said with a smirk that took some effort to place on his face. "I suppose Cedric is dead. Sirius is too. The Weasley family should come next. I'm surprised they haven't already. Oh, and let me guess, Hermione's parents died this summer in an attack. I saw the whole thing."  
  
"You're simply telling me your past," Dumbledore said, but Harry could tell he had mentally stored the information about the Weasleys. "It is your future for which I am concerned."  
  
"Don't be," Harry said. "It's not as if you have any say in it."  
  
"I will never turn my back on you, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You know that."  
  
"Yeah?" Harry asked. His temper that had no outlet in so long was getting the better of him. He was shouting now. "Your death forced me to fight Voldemort in the first place!"  
  
Silence filled the room.  
  
"I thought that might be the case," Dumbledore said heavily.  
  
"That's not my fault," Harry said coldly. "Now if you'll excuse, me, I have some time more important to be."  
  
"Just a moment," Dumbledore said. Harry would have ignored the comment had Dumbledore not said it as a question instead of a command.  
  
"How many people that you love have died in this battle?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Harry said nothing for so long Dumbledore did not expect an answer, but then Harry said, "All of them." The next second he had gone.  
  
A/N: Well, slowly we're learning a little more about Harry's past. Originally I had written a prequel to this telling about Harry's struggles, but I didn't like it very much and it was scraped.  
  
Gilthas: That's fascinating. Please go on.  
  
Me: Shut up... 


	6. Back to Before Then

A/N: Another chapter! Yeah...that's it really. Read and Review!  
  
Chapter 6: Back to Before Then  
  
The miles just keep rollin'  
As the people leave their way to say hello  
I've heard this life is overrated  
But I hope that it gets better as we go  
  
-3 Doors Down  
  
Harry reached his hotel seconds later. He didn't know how he felt about Dumbledore learning more than he should. Normally he would have been furious, but that night, he didn't feel completely normal.  
  
Frowning, Harry summoned one of the three books he had bought at Flourish and Blotts and sat down to read.  
  
He found a reference to what he wanted quickly.  
  
Traveling through time is risky and dangerous business. It is generally well known that a person only has the ability to travel back in time. What is less well known is that this is a lie. There are but a few spells that have the ability to complete such a task and each spell requires powerful and dangerous magic. This is in no way to be attempted by beginners.  
  
Harry skipped through the precautions.  
  
Spells alone will not be enough to complete this spell. It will require the Avenir Potion listed below and the creating of a portal. Be warned, once the portal is formed, you still may not have the ability to go through it. To go into the future you must first have gone into the past. Time is constantly trying to correct itself. If it feels you are in the wrong time, it will be more lenient on accepting you. There is no sure way to predict the portal's decision. There can also be great consequences to your actions and you may inadvertently alter history. Several things could happen if this is done. 1) Nothing. 2) You could alter the future such that you would never exist. 3) Global destruction. Take all available precautions-  
  
Harry skipped down further to the potion. He frowned. Some of the ingredients would be difficult to come by. A small smile slipped over his face. Perhaps it was time to visit an old friend.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry sighed. Apparently it was Snape's turn to keep watch on him for the Order. He kept glancing up the paper he was grading. Plus he seemed very eager to discipline him. It just wasn't fair to have three days detention for knocking his sealed jar of armadillo bile off his desk.  
  
Harry shifted his position slightly. His legs had quickly become cramped from the awkward position. Snape had assigned Harry one of his infamously gruesome detentions. Being forced to clean the jars of live leaches didn't come at the very top of Harry's top-ten list of favorite things to do.  
  
A noise like something dropping came from Snape's office. Snape's head snapped up. Glaring suspiciously at Harry, who had no idea what had happened, he arose from his desk and walked over to his door. Well, no so much 'walk' as 'scuttle' thought Harry dully. Like a spider.  
  
Snape disappeared into his office. Seconds later he yelled "Potter!"  
  
Surprised, Harry got to his feet and poked his head into Snape's office. "Yes, Professor?"  
  
"What is this?" Snape demanded. On the desk lay three empty jars.  
  
"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "Empty jars?"  
  
"Don't give me cheek!" Snape hissed. "What do you mean by this?" He held out what looked like a Muggle sticky note. Reading it, Harry was dumbfounded.  
  
Thanks! From Harry J. Potter.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry smirked and drew back further into the shadows. Snape looked livid. Rearranging the molecules of the wall beside him, he slipped unseen into the other room. He shook his head when he saw what Snape was forcing his younger self to do. Waving his hand, the leaches once again swum in clean jars. Hearing the conversation from the other room coming to an end, he waved his hand and disappeared only to appear seconds later in his hotel room.  
  
Dropping the ingredient he had acquired from Snape's office onto the dresser, he waved his hand to make the minute cauldron in which he kept his half-brewed potion enlarge. Crunching up some lacewings in between his fingers, he slowly sprinkled them into the still simmering cauldron. The potion hissed and turned from brown to red. Rereading the instruction, Harry then slowly placed the Augurey feather so that it floated on top of the potion for a split second before it gave the appearance of melting and disappeared completely.  
  
After waiting for 10 minutes, as instructed, the potion turned a bizarre shade of green and began to hiss. Harry carefully placed three hairs of a Lethifold into the potion and sat back to watch. The potions gave off a mushroom shaped cloud, rather like a Muggle's nuclear bomb. It began hissing and spitting. Seconds later the liquid began to evaporate, leaving what looked like strangely colored sand. Harry took three tablespoons of this and put it into a small, charmed bag and sealed it shut. The rest he sealed in a small box and, shrinking it down, put it in a pocket in case he needed it later.  
  
He grabbed his book and, with another wave of his hand, appeared in the exact spot that he had appeared in this time days earlier.  
  
Flipping open again to the appropriate page, Harry set about making preparations to the portal summoning.  
  
Midnight had already crept up on him by the time the portal became ready to summon. Harry exhaustion kept him from performing the spell immediately and he knew that he could not summon a portal of any kind unless he was prepared in both body and mind. Lying upon the hard ground, he tried again to get some sleep.  
  
"He is proving difficult indeed," Harry hissed. "And because of this, my Death Eaters are failing in their duties! Why isn't that family of red haired brats dead yet?"  
  
The Death Eater before him cowered on the floor. "Forgive us, master! They had gone to collect the family when they spotted the target and attempted to apprehend him! He overpowered them! They almost died!"  
  
"Then they should have died! It is no more than I will do to them when I am forced yet again to make a jail break!"  
  
"Forgive us! We have failed you!"  
  
"Forgiveness from Lord Voldemort is not idly given," Harry hissed. "From now on this new obstacle will my business and mine alone! You will complete the tasks I set for you! Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, master! Please master! I understand!"  
  
"Now go. I have no use for sniveling worms such as you. Go!"  
  
The man fled. Harry leaned back in his chair, his red eyes glowing angrily. "Fool," he muttered. "He must know that I will get him in the end."  
  
Everything changed. Harry walked with Ron and Hermione down Main Street in Hogsmeade.  
  
They ran into Neville Longbottom.  
  
"Ron, you've got a letter at the post office."  
  
Ron looked surprised. "Oh, okay. Thanks, Neville."  
  
They looked at each other. Usually they only got mail at meal times.  
  
So they set their footsteps toward the post office. Harry let Ron collect his letter while he waited for him on the bench, eating chocolate. Ron joined his a minute later with Hermione and both Harry and Hermione looked over his shoulder while he tore open the letter.  
  
It wasn't a letter at all but a picture. It showed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Percy in the living room of their house. Either they had been knocked unconscious or... dead. Not a one moved and Harry found himself unsure whether it belonged to a muggle camera or a wizard one. Ron turned it over with shaking hands. Only two words had been written on the back-Two down.  
  
Harry sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. Cursing, Harry blinked for a moment and then recognized his surroundings. The portal. The sky still sparkled with stars, but Harry knew he would have no chance of sleeping now. He had already altered history. The Weasleys had not died and if he and his younger self had shared dreams again, then Dumbledore would know soon enough.  
  
Harry scrambled to his feet. He had unintentionally changed history. This couldn't be allowed to happen. He had to get out of that time and fast.  
  
He double checked the portal symbols and grabbed his bag of herbs. He took a moment to clear his mind. This should only take one try. He raised his arms to the sky and shouted,  
  
"All the time in the world shall be mine! Let me pass through the barriers of the mortal realm and walk once again upon soil that is my own! The skies shall not tremble and the earth beneath my very feet will be the earth that belongs there! Let me return to the present and let time be healed!"  
  
The energy coursed through him. Thrusting his hands outward, white hot energy shot to a spot designated by the runes on the ground. It crackled in the night and where the energy collected a portal formed. Beyond it Harry could see nothing-a barrier that he had to overcome.  
  
Holding the Avenir Potion in front of him, he took a step toward the portal. It felt as if the sky itself pressed down on him. He took another step forward. He yelled, "Laisser entrer!" over and over again, the words to the spell. He took another step forward.  
  
He stood directly in front of the portal now. The pressure pushing down on him almost made him collapse, but he took another step, into the portal.  
  
The force that flung him backward probably could have killed him, but, thinking fast, he stopped himself in midair and fell 5 feet to the unyielding ground. His back hurt horribly, but once again he tuned it out. He stood up, enraged.  
  
"I am worthy! Let me pass into my own time!" Throwing the bag of potion aside in anger, he ran at the portal again, the pressure that had been there before had disappeared. He ran straight at the portal, and then straight through it.  
  
Realizing he would need the potion to get anywhere, he grabbed it again. The pressure returned. Abandoning all pretense, he ran at the portal, pushing away the weight on top of him. The portal again refused him entrance. Again he was brutally thrown backward. Realizing the uselessness of continuing, Harry took his foot and smudged away some of the carefully prepared symbol. The portal flickered. Raising his hands above his head, he said softly and deliberately, "Your purpose here has been fulfilled. Take your leave and be gone from the plane of mortals."  
  
The portal vanished. Harry stared hard at the place it had been. What had he done wrong? The only thing he could possibly imagine could not be. If anyone did not belong in a place, he did not belong here.  
  
"It would appear that you have failed," said a soft voice behind him. Harry recognized that voice and for the first time in many years, he felt again the cold terror that had threatened to consume him so many years ago.  
  
He pushed it away. "Fancy seeing you here, Voldemort."  
  
"Not as strange as it is to see you." Harry did not turn around but he could tell from the power that suddenly radiated throughout the clearing, that Voldemort had left his hiding place.  
  
"What do you want with me?" Harry asked, his voice showing no emotion. "Surely you should know by now that I am no longer the one predicted to be your equal."  
  
"The boy is a minor annoyance," said Voldemort coldly. "You interest me far greater."  
  
"Then it's truly a shame that I'll have nothing to do with you," Harry said, no hatred in his voice. He had simply stated a fact.  
  
"Is that so?" Voldemort asked softly. "I beg to differ."  
  
"Do you now?" Harry asked, allowing some amusement to creep into his voice. He finally turned around to face the person that had haunted his dreams for so long. Red eyes stared back. Harry again had to master his fear.  
  
"I do indeed," Voldemort said. "It would seem that you are not the child I have long come to hate. You could be of use to me."  
  
Harry smirked. "Is that so? Well, then I suppose you could be of some use to me."  
  
"Perhaps we could help each other," Voldemort said.  
  
"Sounds good," Harry said seriously. "What I want you to do for me is to go away, and then rot in hell."  
  
Voldemort smirked. "I expect to meet you there."  
  
"When the time comes it will come," Harry said. "But for now, I have something more important in which to attend. You are wasting my time, like your pathetic excuse for followers before you."  
  
"My followers are fools. They do only what I command."  
  
"Then it's a pity you have such control over them. Someone smarter than you would probably make better decisions."  
  
Voldemort's anger showed plainly on his face. "You dare to speak to me like that when your own stupidity has led me to you this night?"  
  
"My own stupidity should not effect this time," Harry said coldly. "You fail to realize that I'm taking the first portal out of here."  
  
"Your portals are defective. You cannot return to your own time. I have seen your pathetic attempt."  
  
"My attempts could not have been pathetic," Harry said, smirking. "If they had been, the great collection of power that led you to me in the first place wouldn't have been enough to catch your attention."  
  
Voldemort frowned at the logic behind this. "I have not come to anger you," he said. "I have come to strike a deal with you."  
  
"Then tell me the deal and stop the fouling of the air around me," Harry said coldly.  
  
"You have become braver, I can see that plainly," Voldemort said.  
  
"Good," Harry said sarcastically. "You have eyes."  
  
Voldemort's red eyes flashed. "The deal is this, you stay out of my way, and I don't kill you where you stand."  
  
"Empty threat," Harry said. "You can't kill me where I stand."  
  
"Is that so?" Voldemort said. "If you truly believe you are more powerful than I, perhaps you could explain why it is you have not yet defeated me in the future."  
  
Harry was struck dumb. What was Voldemort talking about?  
  
"I know you," Voldemort said. "I know you as you are now. Your tiny world revolves around others. Everything else takes its proper place behind that. It could not be that you defeated me so long ago and it still haunts you. You must live with it in the present. You are so desperate to get back so that you can continue on with your pointless attempts to defeat me. I know more than you think I do."  
  
Harry said nothing. Voldemort seemed to be much more confident than he remembered. He couldn't see that he was so far off track that might have been sad-had he not been a mass murderer trying to destroy the world.  
  
"Then perhaps our discussion here is done," Harry said shortly. "I have more important matters that require my attention." He pulled out his wand to Apparate, but Voldemort waved his wand. The air grew heavy with the anti- apparition spell that had been put into place.  
  
"I'm not done quite yet," he said with a smirk.  
  
"I am," Harry said coolly. He waved his hand and vanished.  
  
A/N: Wow, he bested Voldemort. Basically, I wrote myself into a trap and I needed Harry out of there. I mean, obviously Voldemort would feel the power surges and come running, thinking it to be a trick of Dumbledore's against him. Besides, Voldemort's presence because of Harry could affect things unexpectedly... 


	7. Back to Forgotten Times

A/N: Next chapter! Do I say that every time or is it just me? Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 7: Back to Forgotten Times  
  
Could I be you?  
  
Something is wrong with the sum of us  
That I can't seem to erase  
How I can I be the only one  
With out a smile on my face?  
You show your pain  
Like it really hurts  
And I can't even  
Start to feel mine  
  
I'm standing in place  
With my head first and I shake, I shake  
And I see your progress  
Stretched out for miles and miles  
And you're laughing out loud  
At the thought of being alive  
And I was wondering  
Could I just be you tonight?  
  
-Matchbox 20  
  
Harry came into being again with a faint pop. He could feel himself shaking. Angry again, he pushed it away. With the fear gone, Harry noticed with a jolt that he had not appeared in the place originally intended. He had been so desperate to get out of there that he had not properly focused his energies and had inadvertently appeared in the last place he wanted to be. Had he been Apparating, he would have been splenched.  
  
He drew his cloak around him and slid back into the shadows. Had it not been so late, the Gryffindor common room would no doubt have been full of people and his appearance there would not have gone unnoticed.  
  
As it was, the common room still played host to three people. At that moment, a shout sounded out and a skinny boy with jet black hair and a small, lightning bolt burned across his forehead, sat up strait and opened startling green eyes. He looked wildly around him. "Ron!" he said. A figure in the chair across from him stirred. A book and a piece of parchment fell off his lap.  
  
"Harry?" grumbled the figure. It opened its eyes. "Are we in the common room?"  
  
The younger Harry blinked and looked around. "I suppose we are. We must have fallen asleep. Hermione has too."  
  
A figure with bushy brown hair sat in her chair, her head tilted sideways and her book slanted at an odd angle.  
  
"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked quietly.  
  
Harry shook his head. "I had a dream, is all. A very real dream, too." he trailed off. Ron appeared suddenly wide awake. He sat up straighter.  
  
"Was it.You-Know-Who?"  
  
Harry frowned. "At the beginning. But I really don't remember much of that."  
  
"Was it a vision?" Ron asked. "What's going on?"  
  
"Calm down, Ron!" Harry whispered, tilting his head at Hermione. "Don't wake her up. She'll just tell me to go to Dumbledore."  
  
"About what?" Ron said, annoyed "You're keeping me in the dark!"  
  
"Sorry," Harry said apologetically. His eyes clouded over, remembering the dream. "We had gone to Hogsmeade."  
  
"Like this weekend?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah, in fact, a lot like this weekend. We even had that new chocolate from Honeydukes. I know because I sat there eating it while you got your letter from the post office."  
  
"That doesn't sound so terrible," Ron said shrugging. "You got to eat extra chocolate, right?"  
  
"That's not everything that happened," Harry said. He felt like he was going to be sick. Everything came back clearly, more like a memory than a dream. "Your letter-it wasn't a letter. It was a photograph. And on it." Harry couldn't go on. The ghastly image burned into his mind.  
  
"What was it?" Ron asked, clearly not wanting to know yet at the same time, curiosity getting the better of him.  
  
Harry shook his head, trying to rid himself of the picture of all the Weasleys-dead.  
  
Hermione stirred. Harry looked at her and Older Harry clearly saw pain etched in his features. He had seen her parents die as well.  
  
She opened her eyes and looked at them, confused. She suddenly sat up and looked around. "Are we in the common room?"  
  
Harry nodded, looking a little sick. He shook his head.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" She asked.  
  
"He had a nightmare," Ron said quietly. "I just haven't heard the scariest part."  
  
Hermione looked concerned but at the same time tried to look fully awake. "Was it a vision, Harry?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "It was more like.a memory. I know it sounds stupid."  
  
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.  
  
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand here and watch all this happen. Just seeing Hermione again tested his strength, but to see everyone in a room.  
  
Harry couldn't bring himself to look at his younger form's face. He knew so little about what lay in his future, yet at the same time, he didn't have that look of pain that Harry always seemed to come with the memories of that time. He wore his pain like it actually hurt. In less than a year, he would learn how to tune it out. It seemed easier that way-to be cold and unfeeling. The pain that had been so brutally thrust upon him limited his abilities. If you could just tune it out, he could be convinced that everything had happened for the best. Harry could no longer begin to feel that pain. It had vanished, less than a memory because the memory itself had slowly begun to fade because of the continued passage of time.  
  
Harry suddenly laughed. "I'm being ridiculous. It was just a nightmare. I'm making too big a deal of this."  
  
Hermione and Ron cast each other uneasy looks.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry assured them. "I just had a regular nightmare and it's been such a long time that I didn't see it for what it was."  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked worriedly.  
  
"Yes," Harry said exasperatedly. "It was just a pointless nightmare."  
  
Silence followed for a moment before Ron said suddenly. "Did you see that look Snape gave you in class today when you finished your potion early?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "I saw that! I don't think Harry did, did you? You were probably mad at Snape for giving you detention and refusing to look at him."  
  
Harry grinned. "Why? What did he do?"  
  
"Oh, you know, the usual," Ron said grinning. "It was the I-hate-that-funny- Potter-kid-who-actually-made-a-good-potion-for-once-and-I-can't-critize-it look."  
  
"Oh that look," Harry said. "I should have guessed!"  
  
Everyone laughed.  
  
Harry found himself watching intently-taking in every word. But that feeling had returned, that carefully controlled feeling that he had tried for so long to block out, to destroy. It ached inside of him with a pain he no longer remembered. He found himself involuntarily thinking, if I could have just one night, to have everything back.  
  
The pain intensified so that it threatened to overwhelm him. Angry at himself for his weakness, for feeling sorry for himself-something he had long since decided didn't help-Harry waved his hand and vanished. He appeared back in his hotel room and slumped onto his bed, thoroughly exhausted.  
  
Nothing happened that had happened to him, happened now. If Malfoy hadn't opened that portal.  
  
Harry suddenly sat up straight. Malfoy! He had completely forgotten! He's probably trying to reopen the portal again to try and bring Voldemort into the future! He would have free rein with Harry out of the picture. He had to get back! He forced himself to take a deep breath.  
  
"That's ridiculous," Harry said out loud to himself, frowning. "I can just go forward to my time to the exact second I disappeared and stop him then." He couldn't stop that nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. Shaking his head, he summoned a potion to him with a wave of his hand.  
  
His alarm's red beam showed the time to be 2:00 in the morning, but he couldn't stay. Voldemort's search did not rest and he couldn't be in one place too long. Voldemort could be unimaginably close and he would not know it. He'd rather not have another confrontation. Voldemort wouldn't let him disappear so easily again.  
  
He chugged the potion and immediately felt all traces of tiredness leave him. Summoning his possessions to him, he stuffed what little he had into his pockets and went to the lobby to check out.  
  
The woman talked animatedly on the phone when he arrived, immersed in what appeared to be an obviously important call.  
  
"He didn't! I can't believe him! Why would he say such a thing? But of course you called it off. What? You're still with him? What are you playing at? If a guy did that to me-"  
  
"Excuse me," Harry said impatiently. "I'm ready to check out."  
  
"Just a minute, Valerie," the woman said to her friend on the phone. "It's two o'clock in the morning. Check-out times are from 4 to 11. Can't you read?" She went back to her call. "Sorry, Val. Some guy wanting to check out. That's what I told him, but he didn't seem to think it important. So, where were we? Oh yeah! So-"  
  
Harry reached up and pressed the little button that hung up the phone. The woman looked enraged. "Do you have any idea how much I could sue you for that?"  
  
"Nothing," Harry said coldly. "I'm ready to check out now. You will check me out."  
  
The woman looked angry, but Harry wore his angry look that very few in the world had ever attempted to go against and she proved to be no exception to the rule.  
  
"Fine!" She huffed. "Do you want me to say you checked out at 4?"  
  
"I don't care what you put as long as I no longer have to speak to you for the rest of my life," Harry said coldly. "Now click that little button that says I will not be here tomorrow."  
  
The woman began typing furiously. The next moment the computer shut off.  
  
"What?" the woman asked, looking around in alarm. "What did you do?"  
  
"I did nothing," Harry said coldly. "You took too long."  
  
The lights went out as well. Harry found himself completely in the dark. His eyes being useless, he closed them and concentrated his energy into finding the exact locations of each of the Death Eaters in the room.  
  
"What's going on?" the woman said. "What's happening? Whose there?" She suddenly screamed. Harry distinctly heard someone whisper, "Your worst nightmare." Before there was a flash of green light and the woman slumped into her chair, dead.  
  
"Harry Potter," said a voice. Harry zoomed in on it. The person was standing about 5 feet behind him. He turned around as silently as if he had not moved at all.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy," Harry said calmly. "Fancy seeing you here. I had no idea you were worth being broken out of Azkaban so soon."  
  
Harry could tell he'd hit a nerve. These people constantly surprised him at how easily they angered. "It's been 2 years!"  
  
"I rest my case," Harry said.  
  
"Were you not of invaluable importance to my master, I would kill you where you stand," Malfoy snarled.  
  
"I remember a similar threat made by your master earlier tonight and I'm still alive, do you fancy yourself better than the half blood you choose to serve?"  
  
Malfoy seemed to use every ounce of control he possessed to keep his temper in check.  
  
Harry used the time this gave him to search for others in the room. He found nothing. Malfoy had come alone. He would pay for his oversight.  
  
"My master is greater than you shall ever hope to be!" Malfoy snarled.  
  
"Your master is less than the mere minimum I could ever hope to become," Harry said, enjoying toying with this man. "He is a pathetic excuse for an arch-wizard."  
  
"You will pay for that comment!" Malfoy said.  
  
"And who will make me pay?" Harry asked, smirking in the dark so that it went unseen.  
  
"I!" Malfoy said. Harry sensed him raising his wand and instantly appeared three feet from where he had been. The green curse illuminated the room and Malfoy saw how far away his aim had been.  
  
"You and what army?" Harry asked with a laugh. "You are an arrogant fool."  
  
Malfoy took aim and again the deadly curse missed its mark. Harry now appeared on the opposite side of Malfoy.  
  
"I have no cause to dodge those," Harry said lazily. Malfoy spun around. "You see, Malfoy, as your master will inevitably learn, such a curse has no effect on me. In fact, it would be in your best interest not to attempt such a curse on me."  
  
"You speak too much," Malfoy said sneeringly. "I shall tell my master of everything you say!"  
  
"You will be in no condition to speak when I am though with you," Harry threatened. "Much less tell your master any word I say."  
  
"We shall see!" Malfoy said. Once again he raised his wand and once again his missed by feet.  
  
"It's not working, Malfoy," Harry said, bored. "Try something else."  
  
Malfoy's anger had become ridiculous. "I'll kill you, Potter!"  
  
"Now it's just getting pathetic," Harry said. "In a five-hundred years it's gone from, 'Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out. Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, and do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on' to 'I'll kill you!' Tut, it seems very crude for a man of your stature."  
  
"Shakespeare," Malfoy said, smirking, his anger abated. "Hamlet, I believe."  
  
"Very good," Harry said smirking. "You would think 2 years in Azkaban might have stomped some sophistication out of you."  
  
Malfoy scowled. "You have much to learn, Potter. For you have never felt the pure wrath of the dementors else you would not mock their powers."  
  
Harry threw his head back and laughed. "Is that so, Malfoy?" He asked loudly. "I have not known the suffering of the dementors, have I? You are so ignorant that it isn't worth my time to stop you because you'll eventually die from some other wand!"  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Malfoy hissed.  
  
"And you underestimate me," Harry said coldly. "It's almost sad. I thought better of you."  
  
"You underestimate me!" Malfoy said. "You have no right to mock me as you are!"  
  
"I know you, Malfoy. I have known you for far longer than you deserved to be known. I know your tricks. I know your weaknesses. I know your strengths. I know your thoughts. I know every little thing that you could possibly think to be an advantage. I know your very secrets. I know what you're plotting. I know more than you want any man at this time to know."  
  
Malfoy took a step back. Normally he wouldn't have believed a word of it, but the tone in Harry's voice stated plainly that he did not jest.  
  
Harry sensed his hesitation and attacked. With a wave of his hand Malfoy went flying into the far wall. He hit it with tremendous force and clearly fought hard against unconsciousness. All the angry feelings Harry had felt that night came out. Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand at the beginning and he left it untouched until Harry finally stopped himself. Malfoy looked a wreck. He lay unconscious, but not dead. Grabbing his wand that had remained untouched throughout the battle and, with a wave, Malfoy's memory vanished.  
  
Harry whispered a charm and held out his hand, palm up. A small ball of golden energy formed in his hand and it looked as if small wisps of silvery clouds came from the very air and sucked into the ball. When no more wisps came, Harry blew on the ball in one, quick puff. A flash of light illuminated the room and instead of a ball of energy, a small glass sphere the size of a marble which seemed to be full of white smoke appeared. As Harry held it in his palm, the smoke inside suddenly turned scarlet. Scowling, Harry dropped the Remembrall into his pocket and, with a wave of his wand, the lights came back on. He already knew he had forgotten something. He had been trying to remember it from the beginning and he didn't need a glass ball of memory to tell him that.  
  
He didn't look at the dead Muggle. The telephone suddenly rang. That must be her friend. Harry closed his eyes against the horrible crime that had been committed. He couldn't understand why everything began to mean more to him than it used to. Scowling again, he turned on his heal and swept out of the battleground that had previously been a hotel lobby.  
  
He felt more comfortable in the dark than most people. People feared what they didn't know and in the dark, they couldn't see anything well enough to realize the difference between appearance and reality. Harry belonged in the dark. He didn't need eyes to tell him things. The darkness made sure that he alone knew everything hidden and no other knew the truth.  
  
Tonight, however, the comforting blackness didn't help him as much as he had hoped it would. On the contrary, he kept picturing the safety of the common room. The fire burning low and giving the room a strangely unreal look, casting shadows in the corners that appeared to be more like comforting pockets of blissful ignorance as opposed to eerie shadows of unknown fear. He immersed so deeply in his thoughts that he failed to be on his toes as much as he should have been and consequently didn't feel the new presence until its force had heighten considerably. .  
  
Cursing, he raised he hand, ready to strike.  
  
"I didn't come to hurt you, Harry," said a wizened old voice. Harry lowered his hand. Dumbledore.  
  
"What do you want," he asked coldly.  
  
"I came to find you," he said simply.  
  
"I'm here," Harry said.  
  
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "And two hours ago Death Eaters stormed Hogwarts."  
  
Harry frowned. "No, they didn't."  
  
"They did," Dumbledore said, his piercing blue eyes looking deep into Harry's. "There were few casualties. One, however, was a major target."  
  
"Me," Harry said simply. "Tell me something, Dumbledore. If I told you that you were supposed to be dead by now, would you believe me?"  
  
"I would," Dumbledore said. He didn't seem surprised.  
  
"I suppose tonight was the night you were supposed to die," Harry said, looking into the slowly lightening horizon. "And Voldemort didn't come after you because he was concerned with my portal. Damn it, Dumbledore! The more I try to keep history unchanged the more I fail miserably! I suppose Lupin portkeyed me to safety?"  
  
"He did."  
  
"Then I haven't caused too much damage."  
  
"On the contrary," Dumbledore said quietly. "You have been more of a help than a hindrance."  
  
"But for how long?" Harry asked. "Do you honestly think that every little mess up I do here will have no effect on the future? What if, because of everything I've done causes Voldemort to defeat me? It's like giving Voldemort a second chance."  
  
"I have to have faith that there was some reason the portal would not let you go back to your own time," Dumbledore said. Harry did not ask how he knew. "Perhaps there's a greater purpose for you being here."  
  
"Or perhaps there isn't," Harry said. He scratched his wrist. It was itching. It hadn't hurt since Voldemort had been destroyed. He looked down and the cobra looked up at him, ready, as always, to strike. It was just another of the many scars Voldemort had left him.  
  
"I suppose you have no reason to want to help, do you?" Dumbledore asked. "I have no idea what ails the child."  
  
"He's not a child," Harry said coldly. "And no, I have no wish to help."  
  
"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "You don't want to interfere."  
  
"I don't want to be here!" Harry yelled suddenly. "You have no idea, how could you?"  
  
"I know what it is like," Dumbledore said quietly. "To think the entire world has been placed upon your shoulders. I know what it's like to have lost far more than you could ever hope to gain. I have been beaten down more times than you have years. But the difference, Harry, is that I have never once turned my back on all those who love me."  
  
"Is that so?" Harry said quietly. "Then why is it you turned your back on me?"  
  
"I never did that, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "You may use that as an excuse to hate the world, but just because a person dies, doesn't mean they are not with you every moment of every day."  
  
"Where were you when Voldemort was gone?" Harry asked, practically shouting. The pain was starting to hurt again and he was angry, not at Dumbledore, but as his weakness, showing its face again. "Where were you those three days I was left dying slowly? Where was anyone?"  
  
"We were right there with you," Dumbledore said firmly. "You are strong, Harry, but you have so much to learn. If you were dying, then why was it you lasted three days longer than you should have? We were there for you every minute of it. And where are you now that your younger self is in pain? We can do nothing for him. It is Voldemort's curse and we cannot break through."  
  
"He must save himself," Harry said. "I did."  
  
"The past is different. You said so yourself."  
  
"Not this," Harry said. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist where, many years ago on that very day, he too had been under Voldemort's curse. He frowned and quickly removed his hand when he realized what he was doing.  
  
"He's in a lot of pain," Dumbledore said.  
  
"He's not. He just doesn't know what's going on."  
  
"Then why is he screaming in his sleep?"  
  
Harry looked sharply at the old man. "I did not scream."  
  
"The past has been altered," Dumbledore said. "This time he might not wake. If you do nothing, he may die and all of time will be ended. Voldemort will rule the world."  
  
Harry contemplated what he could do. He could either go help, or he could stay here and do nothing. He knew what he had to do.  
  
"Take me to him."  
  
A/N: Bum Bum Bum!!!!!! Cliffy! Bwahahahahaha! Oh, that was me possessed, by the way.  
  
Gil: I couldn't tell.  
  
Me: That was sarcasm.  
  
Gil: No s*** Sherlock.  
  
Me: Language!  
  
Gil: I used *!  
  
Me: Whatever... Please review! Reviews are good! They make me happy! 


	8. Back to Remus's House

A/N: Er.nothing to say really. Read on.  
  
Chapter 8: Back to Remus's House  
  
The young man lies alone  
But fastened to the ground  
The sound of fleeing feet and the crying eye  
Will be his last sound  
What did we gain from all this?  
Was it worth a life?  
We've thrown all our hopes away  
And set our dreams aside  
  
-3 Doors Down  
  
Dumbledore had arranged a portkey to take them there. Apparently the place had too many protection charms on it to Apparate.  
  
Harry pulled his cloak low over his head as he saw the familiar lights and house of his former professor. If Dumbledore noticed, he said nothing.  
  
Harry hid in the shadows when Dumbledore knocked on the door. An anxious looking Remus appeared in the doorway. "Dumbledore!"  
  
"I have brought help," Dumbledore said in that annoyingly calm voice he always seemed to have.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Me," Harry said, coming out of the shadows. He knew that Remus could not see his face and he was keenly aware that he must look something like a Death Eater.  
  
"Dumbledore! Who have you brought?" Remus asked, looking at Harry in distrust.  
  
"I have brought help," Dumbledore said again. "He knows far more about this than I can hope to at the present."  
  
"How do you know we can trust him?" Remus asked.  
  
"I would trust him with my life," Dumbledore said coolly.  
  
Harry felt an odd sensation in his stomach that he had not felt there in many years. He felt wanted. Frowning and angry that such a feeling should ever return, he said, just as coolly as Dumbledore had moment ago, "You only have one life to live." He swept past Remus and into the house.  
  
"Hey!" Remus said. "I don't want him anywhere near Harry!"  
  
"Calm down, Remus," Dumbledore said quietly. "He is truly the only one that can help."  
  
"What can he do?" Remus asked. "I've never even seen him before! Who is he?"  
  
"He wished to remain unknown," Dumbledore said. Harry turned down the familiar hallway and into the room he vaguely remembered being. As he pushed open the door and heard a short yell, he knew he had chosen correctly.  
  
"How did he know where we put Harry?" Remus asked suspiciously. "I moved him this morning."  
  
"That's enough," Dumbledore said quietly, but with power. "You must trust him, Remus, as you trust me."  
  
"He doesn't exactly exude happy feelings," Remus muttered.  
  
Harry ignored them both and knelt down at the bedside of his younger self, covered in sweat and muttering in his sleep.  
  
Reaching out a hand, Harry felt the boy's pulse moving unnaturally fast. He was afraid. He put a hand to the boy's forehead. The lightning bolt scar burned painfully, even to him. Harry tuned it out. The next second, the Harry on the bed began jerking wildly and yelling.  
  
Remus ran over to him, pushing Harry out of the way with werewolf strength he had not expected.  
  
"Remus!" Dumbledore called sharply.  
  
"He's hurting him!" Remus said angrily. "I don't know who this guy is, but he's certainly not helping!"  
  
"Remus," Dumbledore said in a condescending voice that implied Remus to be an irrational child. "You don't seem to understand that if this man cannot help Harry, no one can."  
  
"Who is he that makes him so important?"  
  
"That is none of your concern," Harry spat, getting to his feet.  
  
"Like hell it isn't!" Remus snarled.  
  
"Move," Harry said simply.  
  
"No," Remus said, glaring.  
  
"Let me put it this way," Harry said angrily. "Move over or your Boy-Who- Lived is going to die there in his sleep."  
  
Remus glared daggers at him, but, with a look from Dumbledore, reluctantly moved out of the way.  
  
Harry jerked worse than ever. Harry felt his own scar start to burn. Voldemort had inched closer to winning.  
  
An idea popped into Harry's head. He put his hand on the side of his younger self's head and muttered, "Dedans."  
  
Harry felt himself speeding into the boy's mind. He fell to the ground, hard. Getting quickly to his feet, he looked around and found himself in a horrifyingly real place. Screams filled the air around him. They were in Hogwarts, the scene of battle.  
  
Looking around, he saw his younger self hiding behind a fallen piece of the ceiling. He had a cut above his right eye and his right leg stuck out at an odd angle. Lines of pain etched themselves clearly on his face.  
  
From a long way off and out of the dream world his spell had brought him into, Harry reached out a hand and placed it on top of the boy's sweaty forehead-on the cut located in the other reality. In the dream reality, the cut disappeared. Harry reached up and touched his forehead, looking at his hand, he a surprised look appeared on his face at the sight of no blood.  
  
Harry moved his hand to the boy's broken leg. He felt very dimly aware that the boy suddenly started jerking and yelling wildly. The Harry in the dream reality shrieked and fell to the ground from his sitting position, grabbing his hurt leg.  
  
Harry closed his eyes to both realities, trying to heal the leg from the other reality without leaving this one. The next second Harry stopped writhing and sat shakily up. Older Harry felt the pain in his scar lessen. Voldemort's loss had begun. He knew it. Voldemort knew it. Things would only get harder.  
  
He suddenly felt that something had gone hideously wrong. He tried to put his finger on it, but nothing clicked.  
  
The rock behind Harry suddenly exploded. Harry flung himself to the ground, covering his head with his hands. Death Eaters from around suddenly stopped what they had been doing at the sight of him. They formed a circle around him, blocking off exits. Harry got to his feet.  
  
Older Harry moved straight through the Death Eater circle to the center where Harry stood. The Death Eaters had basis in the other reality-not this one. Only Voldemort was real; Voldemort, him, and Harry.  
  
Harry could not see him. He had not crossed fully into this reality. The Death Eaters had no real part in the dream. Voldemort controlled the dream. Younger Harry had the dream. Older Harry intruded in upon the dream.  
  
Harry bent down, only slightly. He had not grown much since that age and whispered into his younger self's ear, "They will wait for Voldemort."  
  
Harry could not see him, could not hear him, but Older Harry became that little voice in his head that many think is common sense. Harry did not relax, but he became less ready for battle. He would wait.  
  
A figure appeared in the shadows. Red eyes shone from the shadows-the first visible sign of who lay beyond. Those same red eyes.  
  
The Death Eaters moved reverently out of the way. Voldemort took a step inside the circle.  
  
"Harry Potter."  
  
Harry stared at the person who had caused him so much pain. Voldemort suddenly blinked those horrible eyes and suddenly looked at Older Harry. He tried to get him into focus. Harry probably looked like less than a ghost-a flickering phantom.  
  
Of course Voldemort could sense him. He power exceeded that of the boy before him. It did now, but it would not later.  
  
"I see," Voldemort said softly. "Reinforcements have come."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Younger Harry asked angrily.  
  
"He cannot see you," Voldemort said. "Interesting." He blinked again. Harry had apparently slid out of focus.  
  
"He cannot see me," Harry said calmly. "He cannot hear me. But I am here."  
  
"I did not expect you to come," Voldemort said.  
  
"I did not expect you to use this curse," Harry said calmly. "I suppose you could tell from the mark on my wrist that I beat your last one."  
  
"I did," Voldemort said. "You showed it to me when you tried to open the portal."  
  
"Wow," Harry said sarcastically. "You're like Sherlock Holmes.except evil."  
  
Voldemort smirked. He opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Younger Harry said, "I always thought you were mad, but I didn't think it went this far."  
  
"I see your cheek sticks with you throughout life," Voldemort said angrily.  
  
"Not for everyone," Older Harry said, smirking. "You're special."  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder. "Surely your Death Eaters don't have enough intelligence to hold you in conversation."  
  
Voldemort looked livid. He fingers twitched to his wand, but at that moment Harry moved and knew that, in Voldemort's vision, he had disappeared. Quickly keeping in motion to keep Voldemort off guard, Harry managed to whisper into Harry's ear, "He's distracted. You'll know when to attack."  
  
Harry's face suddenly got a more determined look about it. Harry suddenly stopped moving in the same spot he had started moving and Voldemort's eyes slid into focus.  
  
"Going for a jog, are we?" He asked, smirking.  
  
"I like to keep in shape," Harry said.  
  
"I have no time for this. You cannot hurt me. You are nothing."  
  
He started to turn back to Harry's younger self and Harry whispered urgently, "Now!"  
  
"Reducto!" Harry yelled. He dropped seconds after he had said the spell and rolled behind a random chunk of debris.  
  
The Reductor Curse nicked Voldemort in the arm and he cursed. Harry moved. He poked his head out from behind a stone pillar. Voldemort saw him and shouted a curse. The jet of green light went right through Harry's head. Because he did not fully lie in this dimension, he could not be affected by it. He laughed and Voldemort, enraged, snarled "Trickery!"  
  
Harry moved again. His younger self poked his head out from be hind his chunk of something at the same time his older counterpart stopped moving long enough to be seen. Voldemort shouted a curse at younger Harry who pulled his head back in just in time. Voldemort smirked. "I've found you."  
  
Younger Harry moved again to another pillar. Harry joined him at it and, while his younger self was still hiding, he moved. Voldemort saw him and shot a curse at him. It went though him and hit the wall.  
  
"You suck at this," Harry said mockingly as he disappeared in Voldemort's line of sight leaving his words ringing in Voldemort's ears from apparently nowhere.  
  
He moved back to Harry's original hiding spot and, stuck his head out. Voldemort shouted a curse and, instead of going through him, it hit him. Harry yelled and felt himself being forced from his younger self's mind.  
  
He opened his eyes and found himself back in the bedroom. Cursing, he prepared to go back in.  
  
"What's happening?" Remus asked, shattering through Harry's concentration.  
  
"Damn it!" Harry said. "Shut up!"  
  
He closed his eyes, placed his hand back on the side of Harry's head and prepared to go back in. The next second, his younger self's own hand pushed his off. Opening his eyes in surprise, Harry saw, to his horror that bright green eyes had been replaced with burning red ones.  
  
"He is gone," Voldemort's voice said through Harry's mouth. "He is dead."  
  
"Lie," Harry snarled.  
  
"Very good," Voldemort said. "But I have control of his body and through him, I can kill you. You provided me a link, you see. I can get to him now."  
  
Harry cursed and looked back at Dumbledore who seemed to have realized the same thing he just did. Voldemort had expected Harry to come and had planned accordingly.  
  
"I thought you already tried this once," Harry said. "You failed."  
  
"What has he left that can pull him back?" Voldemort laughed though Harry's body.  
  
"He has me," Harry snarled.  
  
Voldemort laughed again. "You? You are but a shadow of him! You do not have it in you to undo what I can do to him-what I've done to you. You are finished."  
  
"He has me," Remus said, going to Harry's side and looking, unflinchingly into those horrible red eyes that glowed over the green ones.  
  
Voldemort laughed mercilessly. Remus did not flinch. "Harry," he said calmly. "Come back now. You're letting him win."  
  
"He's not," Harry said suddenly. The thing that had tugged at his mind earlier had abruptly clicked into place. "Hold him down. I'm going in."  
  
"Be careful," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Oh, you know me," Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Don't kill him," Remus said simply. He grabbed Harry's two arms and held him down to the bed. Dumbledore quickly snatched up Harry and Remus's wands and held them out of reach from the struggling form of the boy.  
  
Harry put his hand on the side of the boy's face and tuned out the shrieked insults and yelling coming from the boy on the bed. "Dedans."  
  
He returned to Harry's mind. The pain that came with possession didn't come. Younger Harry stood alone, surrounded by Death Eaters that stared blankly at him.  
  
Older Harry bent down and whispered into his ear, "Something's not right. Ask the Death Eaters a question."  
  
"Where did your master get off to?" Harry asked bravely. "Any particular place that I should know about?"  
  
"No," said one shortly. He stepped forward. His wand pointed straight at Harry's heart. Through the fold in the hood, Harry saw Lucius Malfoy's face.  
  
"Really?" Harry asked. "Then why did he leave? Did the Order of the Phoenix destroy something important?"  
  
"The Order is not strong enough to destroy anything of ours," Malfoy sneered.  
  
"That doesn't look like Malfoy's other sneers," Older Harry muttered.  
  
Younger Harry frowned to himself. "If you're so strong, how come the order is still there at all?"  
  
"Master needs some entertainment," Malfoy said, shrugging, yet never letting his wand waver.  
  
"Malfoy doesn't call him master unless he's talking directly to Voldemort," Older Harry muttered. "He's calls him the Dark Lord. Something is wrong here."  
  
Harry's eyebrows creased. He opened his mouth to say something, but the next second, in a whirl of smoke, Voldemort materialized in front of them.  
  
"You can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds," Harry muttering into his younger self's ear.  
  
Harry stopped muttering and straightened. He looked Voldemort in the eye. "Cheep tricks," he said flatly.  
  
Voldemort's flickered to him, but he made no other notice of his presence.  
  
"Sorry about that," Voldemort said. "I had something of more importance to attend to. You may go, Wormtail."  
  
Malfoy backed up into the circle.  
  
"That's not Wormtail," Harry whispered unnecessarily. It seemed his younger self had already figured that out.  
  
"That's Malfoy," Harry said. "Lucius Malfoy-your right hand man. You should know that, Voldemort."  
  
Voldemort's eyes flickered to Older Harry, standing protectively by his younger counterpart. "I have no time to learn names."  
  
"He knew his name the day he rose again, and it had been years since he had seen him last. Something's not right. And why do I have a memory of a Death Eater in that mirror when I learned about Hogwarts being attacked?"  
  
Harry's mouth suddenly dropped. "Wait a minute," he said. "My broken leg healed on its own, Malfoy's acting more like Wormtail, and for some reason, I have this memory of being knocked out in Professor Lupin's classroom before this all started. That's to say nothing about this weird voice in my head that seems to know more about this than I do."  
  
Older Harry smirked at Voldemort's furious face. "I have never been a quick study," he said. "But I catch on eventually."  
  
"This isn't real, is it?" Younger Harry asked. "None of this! None of this is happening! I'm probably unconscious somewhere! This is a spell!"  
  
There a huge flash of light found Harry once again at the bedside. Harry had still not awoken, but as he watched, what looked like swirling gray mist arose from him, some horrible disease leaving the body.  
  
The mist formed a skull with a snake coming out like a tongue. Voldemort had meant it to come out when Harry died-a last mockery. Instead, it seemed to be angry at its failure. A crack sounded and the entire thing exploded, going over the unconscious Harry and not touching him. Remus blew off his feet where he'd been standing awkwardly, trying to wake Harry up. Harry stood his ground, determined not to let Voldemort's curse blow him backward. Just when he thought it finished, it gave a last pop and Harry felt, to his horror, his hood blow off his head.  
  
"What the-" Remus had gotten to his feet. He looked at Harry in what appeared to be absolute surprise.  
  
Furious, but knowing the damage had been done, he stood up and knocking the chair backwards. He felt keenly aware that the force of the explosion had revealed his lightning bolt scar, but he decided putting his hair back down in front of it might remind Remus of the child he no longer was.  
  
"But-but you're Harry!" Remus practically yelled. "Dumbledore! He's Harry!"  
  
"Excellent observation," Harry growled. "Too bad for you this will be both the first and the last time you will ever see me. I'm gone, Dumbledore. You're boy will wake up soon. He's just sleeping."  
  
Pulling his hood back over his head, he stalked past the staggering Remus. Just a few more steps and he would be out of that house. He had to get out. None of this should have happened. He had to get out. He reached the front door and reached for the doorknob.  
  
"Harry!" Remus came running into the room.  
  
Harry had half a mind to simply ignore him and continue walking. He did not move, his hand on the doorknob, waiting.  
  
"Who are you?" Remus asked.  
  
"And you're the one that was supposed to have taught me," Harry said coldly. "I thought teachers were supposed to be smart."  
  
Remus scowled. "There's no way you could possibly be the same person. Harry would never talk to me like this."  
  
"Harry's a little bit more grown up now," Harry said callously. "You'd do well to remember that and leave me alone."  
  
"Oh," Remus said suddenly. "I get it. You're tragically misunderstood. No one understands you and no one cares about you. All you've got is yourself, is that it? Well, then I suppose in your future world, I'm dead and rotting am I?"  
  
"You might be."  
  
"Then I suppose that no matter what I say, you won't change your mind about anything, will you?"  
  
"It's too late for me," Harry said, his voice emotionless. "Save the boy while you can. Maybe you can actually do some good." He turned the doorknob and stalked out.  
  
A/N: Yep, that's chapter 8. I'm not feeling really talkative at the moment. Maybe some reviews will help. Hint. Hint. Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge. 


	9. Back to Cause Mayhem

Chapter 9: Back to Cause Mayhem  
  
Is there love without hate?  
Is there pleasure without pain?  
I have seen all my mistakes  
  
-The Calling  
  
Harry had no idea where he would go-what he would do. He couldn't believe he'd actually gone when Dumbledore had asked him to. He shouldn't have put his foot in. Now Remus knew about him. Things could only go downhill.  
  
The sky slowly became lighter and it struck Harry suddenly how weary he felt. He hadn't felt so tired in years. Using such powerful magic as going into another's thoughts and dreams took weeks of preparation for normal people, but Harry had never exactly been normal.  
  
He found a hotel that looked decent without looking great. He had no need of wasting money on anything fancy. He checked in and went straight to bed. He tried to sleep when his younger counterpart did so as not to accidentally slip into each others dreams again.  
  
He awoke late into the day, tossing and turning. The dreams had gotten worse. He didn't know what, but something had changed during the day. Something had popped out of place. He shrugged it off. A lot hadn't happened properly. I've seen to that, he thought bitterly.  
  
He checked out of his hotel and went to find something to eat. The sun had already begun to set. He must have been really wiped out to have slept the whole day through.  
  
He ate a horrible excuse for edible food for dinner (an unusually greasy hamburger from McDonalds). Without meaning to, Harry began to wonder what he would be doing now if he had not passed through the portal. He could at least another Death Eater by now.  
  
He stopped suddenly in his tracks. He had felt a presence behind him. He couldn't distinguish the signature. Only Dumbledore and Voldemort had the power to do such a thing. Dumbledore never hid his signature from him when he visited. It could only mean.  
  
"I know you're there," Harry said calmly. "There is no point hiding."  
  
No answer came. Harry turned toward the direction he knew the person must be when suddenly another thought hit him. If Voldemort wished to remain unseen, he would have simply hidden his trail completely, not just scramble the signature.  
  
The feeling suddenly disappeared. The person must have Apparated.  
  
So there's another player in the game.  
  
* * *  
  
The idea to leave this time had vanished completely from Harry's mind. Something only vaguely familiar about that signature had come to him that Harry hadn't recognized at the time.  
  
Harry's first instinct surprised him seconds after he thought it-Go to Dumbledore. Shaking his head, he prepared to banish such a thought from his head completely when a little voice in his head told him, "He may know what's going on." From that thought, it went straight to, "If he already has control of the situation, then I can go home sooner."  
  
Remembering that he could not Apparate onto the Hogwarts grounds, he concentrated and seconds later he was nothing but a scattered collection of molecules, moving almost as fast as light towards the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. He stopped in midair and felt the molecules rearrange themselves as a body for him with a pop. He had learned long ago that getting out of a place-fast-could keep you alive and letting yourself be limited by mere Apparition proved a fatal mistake. It just hadn't been his life lost that day.  
  
Dumbledore sat in his study and looked up when Harry appeared.  
  
"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly. "You'll be happy to hear that Harry is doing fine-"  
  
"That does not concern me," Harry said sharply.  
  
"Then what is it that brings you to my study?" Dumbledore said, staring at Harry through those crystal blue eyes. Harry did not look away, his emerald green ones reflecting only Dumbledore's own image.  
  
"Who is he?" Harry asked, looking for signs that Dumbledore knew to whom he referring.  
  
"Oh, him?" Dumbledore asked politely. "Well, it's funny you ask. You see, he's a younger form of you. Less than a night ago-"  
  
"I'm not speaking of the boy!" Harry said angrily. "I felt a presence tonight. I simply wondered whether it was one of yours, or perhaps." Harry trailed off.  
  
"One of yours?" Dumbledore persisted.  
  
"Perhaps," Harry said, shrugging.  
  
"He is not one of mine," Dumbledore said with his never-ending honesty. "Though it intrigues me that he should baffle you so much that you turn to your old headmaster."  
  
"He scrambled his signature," Harry said. "And kept it hidden, even when I pressed further. When I questioned him, he remained hidden. If Voldemort did not wish to be seen, I would not have noticed him."  
  
"I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "And who is it you think it is?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry said, looking Dumbledore in the eye, wondering, with his constant suspicion, if he concealed information.  
  
"Think now," Dumbledore said. "I know no one and this obviously concerns you. Is there no one who would follow you through the portal?"  
  
"There was no one. The Malfoy alone remained of the Death Eaters, and he had been previously judged unworthy. He could not have gotten through the portal."  
  
"It seems to me that if you ran into a group of Death Eaters-for that is what is generally required to open such a portal-that you would stun a Malfoy first."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something, and then it clicked. "I did," he said slowly. "I stunned him right off the bat. My stunners have only one counter curse, known only to me."  
  
"Then how is it this Malfoy is a prime suspect?" Dumbledore pushed.  
  
"Because when I focused my energy upon closing the portal, he stunned me from behind," Harry said, the memories flashing through his head. "He looked different-older perhaps. I thought nothing of it. I thought it had been an oversight. It's happened before. Usually it's someone else who messes up. But I woke up later and when I realized.I didn't think on it again."  
  
"It sounds to me like you're not the only one in your own time," Dumbledore reasoned.  
  
"I've figured that much out without your assistance," Harry snapped. "The future Malfoy from after even my time came backwards through time because he knew I closed the portal and he tried to stop me, but I ended up going through. Then he followed me through."  
  
"Then why didn't he kill you when he saw you unconscious on the ground?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Because the portal closes when one person has gone through. It had already begun to come forward in time and Malfoy jumped into a different time than I," Harry said shrugging. "We've only now just caught up with him."  
  
"What do you propose we do?" Dumbledore asked, surveying Harry through those half-moon glasses.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said sharply. "I will deal with him. Keep Harry safe. I'm afraid I will have to beat him down once again."  
  
Dumbledore stood up in alarm as, once again, Harry disappeared from view.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry spent several days Apparating around randomly and catching minimal sleep. People were on his tail now and he couldn't afford another run in. He had to find Malfoy soon and there wasn't time to waste on the pitiful efforts Voldemort's supporters always seemed to give. Their presence proved more of an annoyance than an actual threat.  
  
A few days later Harry found himself in Diagon Alley.  
  
Instantly he pulled his hood down over his face. He had been careless to let it slip. He set his footsteps toward Flourish and Blotts. He sincerely hoped it remained open. Looking around the mostly deserted street, he saw that most shops had closed down completely. The few people on the streets skirted around him, afraid. He dressed different-hidden in a cloak. He had something to hide and they knew it.  
  
Harry ignored them and found the store still open. The sign on the outside proclaimed grandly,  
  
Closing Sale! All books 80-90% off!  
  
Harry pushed open the doors and instantly greeted by a nervous looking sales witch.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
Blinking, Harry recognized her as the same witch that had helped him last time. "I need a book," Harry said.  
  
"You've come to the right place!" the woman said in an obviously attempted cheerful voice. "We have everything from The Dark Arts: A Guide to Self Protection to The Invisible Book of Invisibility!"  
  
"Those hold no interest for me," Harry said dismissively. "I'm trying to locate someone."  
  
"I know exactly what you need," the woman said instantly. She hurried away and immediately reappeared before him, holding a book. "It a bestseller," she said brightly.  
  
"I can imagine," Harry said. A small smile flitted across his face. In all the horrors that happened around them, people still had to make a living. "How much is it?"  
  
"Only a Sickle!" the woman said brightly.  
  
Harry fished into his pocket and produced only a few Knuts. "Just a minute," he muttered. Flicking his hand, he summoned from his Gringotts account and a silver Sickle instantly appeared in his open palm.  
  
The woman blinked. "Wait, I know you."  
  
"As do I," said a soft voice from behind him. Harry whirled around, his cloak billowing in a wide arch. No one.  
  
"Go," Harry hissed to the saleswoman. "They have found me. Go home and don't come back. Diagon Alley is no longer safe."  
  
The saleswoman looked terrified at the effect her mere statement seemed to have made.  
  
"Don't you see?" Harry hissed. "The Death Eaters are here! Do you want to die or don't you?"  
  
"Do you want to die or don't you?" Echoed that soft voice in his ear. Ignoring the woman who had still not Apparated, he turned on his heal, leaving the book on the counter and hurried into the street.  
  
"I'm here, Malfoy," he said angrily. "Do you want to avenge your dead father? He's not dead in this time, you know. Or perhaps you've already seen him. He's probably earned himself a permanent place at St. Mungo's. They're trying to get his memory back, you know. It's going to be hard, however, since I have it trapped." He reached into his pocket and drew forth the small glass ball in which the swirling white mist did not glow.  
  
He tossed it into the air casually and then stuffed it back into his pocket. "Come on, Malfoy. I know you're there. Are you still afraid of me, Malfoy? Even after all those years? Maybe Azkaban still has the ability to drive people insane, even without the use of Dementors!"  
  
The presence appeared behind him. Harry whirled around. Nothing. The whispering voice echoed back in his ear. "Mentally insane, am I? Then why can't you find me, Potter? Am I just a little too hard to.catch?"  
  
The presence was in a different direction. Harry whirled again. "Hard?" Harry asked, laughing, while at the same time searching for the true presence. "You're like a cold, Malfoy! You're harder to lose!"  
  
With the last word he blasted apart an innocent trashcan from which he had previously sensed the presence.  
  
"Hard to lose, am I?" came the mocking whisper. "Like a cold, did you say? And all this time I thought you were the cold, unfeeling one."  
  
"Don't forget it," Harry said, smirking.  
  
"I haven't forgotten a thing," Draco Malfoy's voice whispered. "But you seem to have forgotten where I am! Why else would you be searching so hard?"  
  
"You're just not very memorable," Harry said, whirling around as the presence shifted to the book store.  
  
"And you're forgetting something else," Malfoy said. Harry could just imagine that annoying little smirk plastered across his face.  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked.  
  
There was a scream from the store. Harry's heart skipped a beat. The woman from the store. She hadn't Apparated!  
  
He raced into the store in time to see the woman's dead body drop to the ground, a look of pain and terror plastered firmly on her face. An entire life had been wiped out. All dreams that the woman had held, and family she might have had left.gone. In the flick of a Death Eater's wand.  
  
An ice cube seemed to have frozen in his stomach. "No," he whispered. Looking up to the arch about the cash register, Harry saw Draco Malfoy standing there. Harry raised his hand but the next second Malfoy winked and disappeared.  
  
As if determined to have the last word, Harry heard the whispered voice say, "Scared, Potter?" Harry didn't give him the dignity of an answer.  
  
* * *  
  
The Magical Law Enforcement had come later. Harry had watched it all with a long forgotten feeling of failure. He hadn't felt that way for years. He hadn't really paid attention when the Muggle woman died.  
  
Harry walked down a packed Muggle street scowling. It shouldn't be packed. All the Muggles should be hiding in their little holes from the evil wizards that are always out to get them. They should know by now.  
  
Hey, Harry thought sarcastically to himself. If the world ends, I can always blame it on Malfoy.  
  
"Look at that man, Mummy!" cried a little boy in delight. "He's wearing a dress!"  
  
"That's just a long coat, dear," said the mother hurriedly. "It's impolite to point."  
  
Harry had flinched when he'd heard the voice but forced himself not to draw to the side. They had no idea of the world going on around them.  
  
But they should, Harry reminded himself.  
  
He suddenly stopped. He knew what he had to do. He had to stop Malfoy before he changed time. He had changed it unintentionally-imagine what Malfoy could do if he tried!  
  
He's also more powerful, Harry thought grimly. He's never been able to scramble his signature from me like that before.  
  
Harry knew Malfoy to be smarter than he looked-not that that said much. He would not come to him again. He had appeared the first time because he didn't know he, Harry existed in this time. He appeared the second time because he wanted to see what he had to go against. Now he knew. He had no reason to want to return.other than revenge.  
  
Harry shook his head. It wasn't like Malfoy to risk it all like that. He had come back for a reason and it had nothing to do with Harry.  
  
He's going to help the Dark Lord rise again, Harry realized. But of course that's what he's going to try. I stopped him the first time, and then the future Malfoy decided to try again.  
  
Harry had not paid attention to where he went and consequently found himself lost. Cursing under his breath, he looked around.  
  
He instantly recognized his surroundings. that stupid telephone that got you into the Ministry of Magic. He walked up to it. It looked just like he remembered it. It had been destroyed shortly after Dumbledore's death along with the rest of the Ministry of Magic.  
  
He hesitated a minute. He could find no reason to go back to that Ministry. It had only screwed things up. If not for that stupid Ministry, Sirius might still have been alive.  
  
Harry blinked. He hadn't meant to think that. It had slipped in. He shook his head. He couldn't let himself think things like that. He had enough to think about. Without thinking, he reached for the receiver and dialed the numbers to spell out the word 'magic'. The woman's voice came from no where.  
  
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."  
  
This is a stupid idea, Harry thought. Out loud he said, "Phineas Nigellus, visitor."  
  
"Thank you," said the woman's voice. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of you robes."  
  
Harry took the badge and stuffed it into his pocket. The woman was talking again but Harry occupied himself with ignoring her.  
  
When the box finally came to a stop, Harry stepped out and looked moodily around. He might as well start here.  
  
Without submitting his wand to a check, he headed straight to the Ministry. He passed by the magically repaired Fountain of Magical Brethren. It didn't look quite the same. It probably could never fully recover from the killing curse.  
  
He reached the elevator and stepped inside. Harry planned to head straight down to the Department of Mysteries. When he reached the second floor, the elevator door opened to reveal a young man who looked older due to tired lines that lined a face framed with prematurely graying hair. He looked over his shoulder when he entered the elevator and he scowled. Harry shrank into the shadows.  
  
"Perhaps next time I'll announce my visit a few months prior so you can take appropriate precautions," Lupin said in his soft, yet nonetheless menacing, voice.  
  
The elevator doors closed and Harry fully intended to stay hidden in the shadows but suddenly Lupin turned and stared at him.  
  
"I'm sorry about that! I didn't see you-" Lupin stopped his eyes narrowed. "Where are you? I know you're there."  
  
Harry mentally berated himself. He had forgotten about Lupin's heightened werewolf senses. He stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"It's you," Remus said. His expression did not show anger or surprise. "I suppose you're here to see if the rumors are true."  
  
"No," Harry said harshly. "I don't listen to such things. I am here tracking an old friend of mine."  
  
"Ah," Remus said nodding. "Mr. Malfoy Jr."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something but at that moment the door of the elevator opened and a person made to step in. After Harry waved his hand irritably, the person stopped, blinked, and left quickly.  
  
"What did you do?" Remus asked suspiciously.  
  
"Repelling charm," Harry said, annoyed. "Not that it really matters to you."  
  
Lupin frowned.  
  
"How did you know about Draco?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dumbledore told me.before." Lupin stopped and shook his head.  
  
"Before what?" Harry asked, not really caring, but something in him telling him to be polite.  
  
"What do you mean?" Lupin asked sharply.  
  
"You said 'before.' and never finished," Harry said, annoyed. "You never finished your sentence."  
  
"You don't know?" Lupin asked blankly. "I thought you'd be the first, seeing as how it's already happened in your time."  
  
It dawned on Harry and he felt a horrible sick feeling in him that he couldn't believe. Dumbledore was dead.  
  
"So," Lupin said, seeing only Harry's calm exterior and not that horrible tumult inside him. "What do we do for the funeral?"  
  
"I'm really not the one you should be asking that," Harry said, his voice rather hollow to the keen ear. Remus's keen hearing picked it up.  
  
"But surely you expected this," he said blankly. "I mean, you're from the future. You have seen everything happen."  
  
"I have," Harry said. "But now that I'm here, I'm changing everything-just my being here. It's quite unintentional, of course, but Dumbledore died before I got sick in my time."  
  
"Oh," Lupin said. Silence filled the room. The elevator door opened again and the people waiting for it suddenly blinked and turned to leave.  
  
"I never went to the funeral, anyway," Harry said. "I've never been to a funeral in my life. They held most of the funerals after Voldemort's defeat. I decided them to be just a way to dwell on the past and I knew that I could never dwell on the past-not my past. So I didn't go."  
  
"That's horrible!" Lupin said. He looked almost horrified. "Funerals are saying a final farewell to those whom you loved! They're not dwelling on the past! They're letting you turn toward the future!"  
  
"Perhaps from your point of view," Harry said softly. He no longer existed entirely in that elevator. His eyes saw only the past-things he had tried so hard to push out of his memory forever. "But for me it is just a reminder of how horribly I had failed."  
  
"I suppose that means I'm destined to die, does it?"  
  
"No," Harry said. He held out his wrist where the horrible cobra seemed to hiss at all who looked upon it. "Harry was destined to have this scar. Look how that turned out."  
  
"So the future has changed," Lupin said. "You said that much yourself. But it seems to me that every change thus far has been for the better-and you've done everything unintentionally! Imagine how much good you could do here!"  
  
"You must be joking," Harry scowled. "I can't defeat Voldemort a second time. Harry must do this alone. The more everything changes for 'the better', the less of a chance Harry has of winning. That horrible feeling inside of me-that complete and total loss-the certainty that there nothing left to live for but the exacted revenge for every individual that had died at the hands of the murderer in front of me, that feeling blocked out dozens of Cruciatus curses. That pain gave me strength. Harry has none of that. All he has is the horrible pain that Dumbledore and Sirius have placed upon him. That empty hole that can never be filled. But it won't be enough-not when the final battle comes."  
  
"I don't think should matter how many people die," Lupin said. "Harry knows that we are always behind him."  
  
"Ah," Harry said with a sarcastic smile. "But Dumbledore has already deserted him and he has already murdered Sirius."  
  
"That's not true!" Lupin snarled.  
  
"It doesn't matter if it's true," Harry smirked. "It only matters what Harry thinks and believes. Truth has nothing to do with power-and it isn't truth that saved me in that final battle. It was pain. Far too much pain. Not everything is completely bad. No one likes pain, but it does have it uses."  
  
"I never thought those words would leave your mouth," Lupin said grimly. "Pain is pain. It is nothing more."  
  
"Open your eyes, old man!" Harry hissed. "You're confusing me with that small boy you hold so close! I can never be that boy! I have lost too much! He will loose too much! You see no innocence in those eyes now? You see nothing in mine. Voldemort and Dumbledore both could try for weeks and never get past the barriers I have perfected to keep me safe! Dumbledore's emotion crap is nothing to me! Emotions make you weak. I have pushed mine away-and I am yet undefeated."  
  
"Ah, but you're wrong," Lupin said. "Voldemort has defeated you. Not in this time-in your own time. Voldemort is dead and you yet live, but you're not alive, not really. You're half alive. Breathing? Yes. Living? No."  
  
The elevator opened again and Lupin stepped out. With a scowl, Harry went back into the shadows of the elevator and waited again for it to reach the lowest level. 


	10. Back to the Veil

A/N: Sorry to all those whose hearts I broke by not posting for a day (yeah right)! Anyway, my idiot computer went psycho and tried to eat me.  
  
Gil: It did not.  
  
Me: Well, no, but it kept flashing it's little window things at me and telling me an 'unexpected error' had occurred. You'd think that after flashing the warning three times it would be less unexpected.  
  
Gil: Machines are stupid.  
  
Me: I'm in full agreement.  
  
Chapter 10: Back to the Veil  
  
You left me with goodbye and open arms  
A cut so deep I don't deserve  
You were always invincible in my eyes  
The only thing against us now is time  
  
-The Calling  
  
"Department of Mysteries," said the cool female voice. Harry stepped out, instantly blending with the shadows that lurked on both sides of the hall.  
  
He met no one as he proceeded down the dark hallway. A small warning prickled on the back of his neck. Normally, Harry would have simply put it down as the fault of memories, but not this time. His footsteps became more cautious and his hearing more acute. He stopped at a door at the end of the hall. He pushed it open without a second thought.  
  
He found himself in a circular room with many doors. Closing his eyes, be tried to read the feeling, but the strength of something pulsating from behind one door blocked all hope he might have had.  
  
Opening his eyes, he looked at the door in question. Reaching out a hand, he tried to push it open. Nothing happened. He put his hand on the door knob and muttered the spell that should unlock it.  
  
The doorknob burned his hand horrible. He started to shake but did not let go. He could feel his flesh burning from under him. He didn't let go. What he sought lurked behind this door. He knew it. He had to break the spell. With a bang, Harry flew from the door. In his surprise, he let his guard drop and flinched at the pain he expected to feel in his hand. None came. He hit the wall behind him with a bang and stared incredulously at his unmarked hand.  
  
He got to his feet. Taking a cautious step toward the door, he reached out a hand. The doorknob felt cool to the touch and it turned easily for his hand.  
  
Hesitating a moment longer, Harry considered what lay inside the room. Nothing I can't handle, Harry assured himself. Malfoy-if this is Malfoy-is still himself and I am still me. No amount of training can make that fool my equal.  
  
He pushed open the door and the second it opened, he felt himself pulled inside by some unseen force-something that made his readily prepared powers defenseless.  
  
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is as once more wonderful and more terrible that death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is a power within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."  
  
Harry stared in horror at the room he had unlocked. In a hundred years and in millions of different languages, never has a word been uttered that could possibly describe what Harry saw. It looked as if pain had been given a body, as if happiness had suddenly been given voice. It felt as if every tiny particle of emotion he had pushed away for all those years had finally broken through.  
  
He had no defense for this kind of power. It was greater than anything he had ever encountered, more terrible that a hundred Voldemorts-more benign that thousands of Dumbledores.  
  
Harry fell to his knees as every moment of great suffering, great happiness, great excitement, and great pain washed over him. The pain canceled out each time by a brief moment of utmost joy. But it didn't last. With the end of Voldemort came memories that Harry barely remembered due to such a long time of pushing them away.  
  
"I'm having Christmas dinner at my house," Ron said hopefully. "Maybe you can come. Ginny will be there."  
  
"I'm busy," Harry said. "Unlike you, I realize that there are still hundreds of Death Eaters waiting patiently in hiding for another Dark Lord." He never once looked up from his work. Ron took a step closer.  
  
"Harry," he said calmly, almost pleadingly. "The Death Eaters can wait. Surely you can spare one night, in all the year! It's Christmas, Harry. Please come."  
  
"I haven't the time," Harry snapped. "Christmas is supposed to be a happy time. Why do you want me there?"  
  
"Because you're my friend!" Ron had insisted.  
  
Harry had spun around at this, finally looking Ron in the eye. His own seeing right through Ron's eyes and Ron seeing only himself reflected in Harry's. "Am I your friend? Can you truly look upon me and not see me standing there-murdering Hermione?"  
  
"You didn't kill her, Harry!" Ron said, his voice rising fervently. "Voldemort killed her! You did what you could!"  
  
"But I didn't have the strength to save her!" Harry exploded. "I should have been stronger." His voice quieted for this last statement. Ron looked horrified.  
  
"How much is one man allowed to suffer?" He asked. "You did the very best you possibly could! Hermione, wherever she is, doesn't hate you! She doesn't blame you for what happened! I don't blame you! Ginny doesn't blame you! You're not letting yourself come because you can't let go of the past! Let it go, Harry! And live life a little bit! The Fates owe you that much!"  
  
"I don't believe in Fate," Harry said bitterly. "If it existed, then I have been destined to become the murderer of my loved ones. Leave now. I don't want to inflict my company upon you. I know you're only asking me to be nice. Go. You have my answer."  
  
"Harry," Ron said. He reached out a hand and placed it on Harry's shoulder.  
  
The simply gesture broke Harry's calm composure. Enraged that Ron should keep at him, after everything that had happened.after everything that Harry had put him through that he should still wish to taunt Harry with the fact that he and his sister alone still lived, Harry sent Ron flying from the room. The door slammed in Ron's alarmed face and Harry ignored the pounding and the shouts until Ron left, defeated.  
  
Harry looked up, horrified. He no longer knew who he was, where he was. He lost himself completely in the horrible memories. Not a single good one came again. Somehow, through some great force of will, he managed to crawl from the room and close the door behind him. He leaned against it heavily, breathing hard.  
  
He had never forgotten about Ron. He and Ginny alone still lived, still safe. But they had died to Harry as much as any of them. He still sent Harry letters that he never opened. He had gotten one recently, inviting him for Halloween. Ron always went all out for Halloween. He loved that holiday above all others.  
  
Harry had seen something in that vision that he had not seen the first time- something Harry had been blind too. Ron had not taunted him, Ron, one of only two survivors of the Weasley family, the only friend he had left. Harry felt something very peculiar arise in him that moment. A friend.it had been so long.  
  
But he had always had Ron. He had just shut him out. As if that room had opened his eyes, Harry looked around, as though seeing everything for the first time-or merely the second.  
  
Memories of this horrible room came back to him as though the room had not yet had its say.  
  
They crept out of the office and back toward the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely deserted. They walked a few steps forward, Neville tottering slightly due to Hermione's weight. The door of the Time Room swung shut behind them, and the walls began to rotate once more. The recent blow on the back of Harry's head seemed to have unsteadied him; he narrowed his eyes, swaying slightly, until the walls stopped moving again.  
  
Harry realized with a jolt that the room had indeed not yet had its say. Energy still seeped out from under the door. Pulling out his wand, he started charming it with as many locking spells that he knew (and that happened to be quite a few). Then he sank to the floor, breathing heavily. The substance behind the door returned to its locked prison.  
  
He leaned his head against the wall and, for a split second before he jerked it away from the rotating wall, he felt the substance inside pulse with life, trying to get out.  
  
He suddenly jerked to his feet. He was not alone. Not in this room, but down here, in the Department of Mysteries-and they didn't work here.  
  
He steadied himself on his feet. He shouldn't go after them-not in this condition. But if Malfoy had come to the Department of Mysteries, he shouldn't get whatever he sought.  
  
Harry shook his head and tried to block out the memories. Lately it had gotten harder.  
  
He looked down and surprised himself to see his wand in his hand. He only vaguely remembered pulling it out. He shook his head. He rarely used his wand anymore.  
  
He stuffed the small bit of wood into his pocket and closed his eyes. His magic sensed through the very walls themselves and Harry walked toward the direction where he could feel a wizard standing, his hand outstretched. He opened his eyes and pushed open the door which he stood in front.  
  
He almost fell to the ground in his weakened state when he saw the room in which he had entered. Sirius.  
  
"I see you still remember it," said a cool voice. Harry did not blink. Every barrier that the pervious room had lowered shot up like an impenetrable wall. Malfoy stood, staring into the dark veil.  
  
"I do," Harry said coolly. "It had meaning to me. Why are you here?"  
  
"I am here looking for supporters for the Dark Lord's army," said Malfoy. "But surely you would know that."  
  
"Indeed?" Harry asked. "I hate to tell you this, Mr. Malfoy, but everyone in this room, is dead and rotting."  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"I thought I had made that clear."  
  
Harry saw Malfoy's lip curl. "You really should do your homework, Potter. If my father-or godfather, as it is-had fallen through a mysterious veil, I would have wanted to know as much about that veil as possible. But I didn't have that kind of luck, did I?"  
  
"Your father wasn't good enough for a quick, easy death."  
  
"Really? I never heard the details. Did you mock him before you slit his throat, or did Cruciatus Curses do the trick?"  
  
"I wouldn't lower myself to a Death Eaters level with the Cruciatus; you of all people should know that, Malfoy. And I didn't slit his throat, I bludgeoned him to death."  
  
"And then you came to the past and couldn't wait to do it again, could you?"  
  
"It wasn't my fault. He should have known better than to murder a Muggle right in front of me."  
  
"Like you care about the Muggles!" Malfoy yelled, turning away from the veil. "I've seen you! You're taking out all the pains your Muggle guardians did you on them! You're no better than a Death Eater, Potter! You think your so high and mighty, but in the end, you don't bat an eye if one of the billions of Muggles kicks the bucket!"  
  
Harry's anger flared. He mentally stepped on the flames until they became a smoldering ash pile. He couldn't loose his temper now. "The difference between me and the Death Eaters, Malfoy, is that I have a soul-and I've used it."  
  
"Once or twice," Malfoy said, shrugging. "But the innocence of childhood does that to a person. When was the last time you can you honestly say you've used your soul? Was it before or after you killed my father?"  
  
"Both," Harry said, smirking. "Killing your father was no more than killing a dementor to me. Both suck the happiness out of a room, both steal the souls from a human being living and breathing body."  
  
"At least my father-"  
  
"Did you come all the way down here to tell me off for killing your father? If you did, it turned out to be rather melodramatic. If there's more to this little puzzle you've concocted, then I suggest you get on with it so the last of the Malfoy's can sleep with his beloved father."  
  
"Is that a threat, Potter?"  
  
"Very good, Malfoy. Now can you tell me what you get when you mix blue and red?"  
  
"Still funny. I hoped for as much. That will make it all the more pleasant when I rip your still beating heart from your living body."  
  
"Like father. Like son."  
  
"I suppose you're curious to know what I'm doing in such a sad place," Malfoy said. "In this place, I believe, you killed your godfather."  
  
"I didn't kill my godfather. His cousin did."  
  
"Is that so?" Malfoy said. "Since when have you ever seen the truth when lies are so much easier?"  
  
"The truth can set you free," Harry said, smirking.  
  
"So if I start confessing, you'll let me go?"  
  
"Of course not!" Harry scoffed. "I'll get annoyed with you and stick a sharp object through your heart."  
  
"I'll hold you to that," Malfoy said.  
  
"Just warn me first," Harry said. "I'll want to take a picture for future laughs."  
  
"You have my word," Malfoy said. "Of course, knowing me, that certainly doesn't mean much."  
  
Harry shook his head. "You know, you've come a long way from that annoying kid that shot a snake at me in the dueling club. Of course, if we had another midnight duel, I bet you'd still stick the authorities on me."  
  
"And you would show your wonderful scar and they would fall to their knees in worship."  
  
"It's a burden someone has to bear."  
  
"And you love every second of it."  
  
"Naturally."  
  
"Some people never change," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "But, back to what I came here to do. Maybe you can sit in a corner somewhere until your beloved Dumbledore comes and bails you out. Oh wait! I helped kill him, didn't I?"  
  
Harry forced back the furious curses that popped into his mind. Instead, he forced a laugh. "Do you honestly think Voldemort wants your help? He's been doing fine without you. He's just using you. In the end, he'll leave you to rot in Azkaban, or have you complete some sort of impossible task that will get you killed. Just ask your father. He had both happen to him."  
  
But Malfoy didn't let himself get distracted again. He turned to the portal. "You see this veil, Potter? It's called the Veil of Death. It sucks the living from the very living realm and has them cross over into the shadow of the dead. If you had done your homework, you might have realized that by using that little mirror your godfather gave you created a connection to the other realm. By destroying it, you broke the connection." He looked at Harry with a smirk. "But then again, you were an overemotional 15-year-old boy."  
  
Harry did not ask how he knew this. He was from the future, even from Harry's point of view. He had to have everything planned out before he attempted to come back to the past.  
  
"Fortunately for you," Malfoy slipped his hand into his pocket and extracted what looked like the pieces of a small glass mirror. "I have everything you need."  
  
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "I destroyed it. The charm binding them is gone. Not even the Repairo Spell can save it now."  
  
"Are you saying," Malfoy said in mock concern. "That I would have to go back in time? Well, now that you mention it, it seems to me that there was a little something in this very department that could help me out there, isn't there?"  
  
"You've really put some thought into this, haven't you?" Harry asked, his face still coolly composed but inside an alarm was going off. "I suppose your head must have hurt for a month."  
  
"Still sarcastic, even in the face of death. Or, perhaps, the return to life."  
  
"So let me get this straight," Harry said. "You went through all this trouble to free my godfather from the shadow of death? That's very nice of you, Malfoy. But you better not. I might feel bad about killing your father in one time, and brutally attacking and stealing his memory in another."  
  
"Potter, Potter, Potter," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Surely you don't think the sole purpose of this veil was to swallow up your godfather. Someone made for a purpose-before the Ministry saw it as a threat and locked it away."  
  
"And-let me guess-you're going to tell me the purpose?"  
  
"What can I say? I like to brag. That's no more than you do. An arch mage created it centuries ago because he wanted a way to communicate with the dead. It didn't work, but his cat disappeared behind it and could never come back, so he used it. Perhaps you have noticed that ghosts go through everything-you didn't become famous for your intelligence. But this mage decided he wanted to know whether or not ghosts could go through this portal of the dead. Turns out they can-and they can't come back. Ghosts feared nothing-they did not actually live. Now the mage had control over the dead-over everything.  
  
"I'm sure you know the rest of the story. He went evil, tried to destroy the world, got defeated, and the portal brought here. It can't be destroyed, you see. The Ministry used for many years as the final punishment-death. Then they went trigger happy and accidentally sent an innocent man through it. That was the end of that."  
  
"Truly touching," Harry said sarcastically. "But what does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Nothing," Malfoy said. "I was stalling for time. It would appear, however, that I have waited long enough." He looked at the veil.  
  
Horrified that he had so easily fallen into that trap, Harry too looked at the veil. It billowed more violently. The whispers from behind it became louder. Harry could make out individual voices.  
  
"Help me!"  
  
"I didn't do it! Please spare me!"  
  
"I'll never do something like that ever again! Give me another chance!"  
  
"I am so sorry! I know it means nothing now, but I am! I've learned my lesson!  
  
"Just let me go! I can't be like this forever!"  
  
Then the pleading voices quieted and the other voices of the dead broke through.  
  
"Free me and you will be rewarded."  
  
"I want to see my children one last time. My grandchild was having a baby."  
  
"Dead isn't so bad, it's kind of pleasant. No taxes."  
  
Malfoy's eyes closed as though he could see the dead around him. He frowned and flicked his wrist. With each flick a voice vanished.  
  
His eyes still closed and one wrist still flicking, he set the piece of glass on the ground and withdrew from his pocket a small hourglass.  
  
Harry knew that he would have to act quickly. He had already used up far too much time. Jumping down from the stairs and onto the level below where Malfoy stood, he hurried to where Malfoy performed the ritual.  
  
Suddenly Malfoy let out a shriek. "Help me!"  
  
The next second Malfoy's eyes jerked open and he looked at Harry, a horrible smile coming to his lips. His eyes did not see Harry. Someone else looked through Draco's body. They held up a hand and Harry felt as though a hand slowly choked him to death.  
  
Mustering his strength, Harry made a slashing motion with his hand the pressure stopped. Trying not to look like he was gasping for breath, he let the wonderful oxygen fill his lungs.  
  
The spirit possessing Malfoy, however, did not want Harry to catch his breath. Waving Malfoy's wand wildly, he yelled what sounded like a chant. What appeared to be 8 streaks of light, emitted from Malfoy's wand and curled themselves around Harry, taking shape and forming into hissing serpents.  
  
Harry could not move his hands, but he concentrated his energy and a second later the snakes fell to the floor, writhing around when they hit and vanishing in smoke, Harry appeared directly behind Malfoy. Realizing this spirit must be a skilled wizard, Harry tapped it on the shoulder. Malfoy spun around and the next second Harry's fist connected hard with his rival's face.  
  
"A little unorthodox," Harry admitted when Malfoy fell to the ground under the blow, "But it works."  
  
Malfoy's hand containing the hourglass went slack as he fell to the ground, unconscious. The small hourglass flew into the air. Harry made to catch it, but he was too slow after everything that had just happened and the small glass hit the glass mirror and broke, right in the middle. A single grain of the magical sand fell out.  
  
The second it touched the glass the mirror glowed and, like a movie, it rose into the air and instantly fixed itself. It started to fall and Harry reached out a quick hand and caught it.  
  
Everything inside Harry seemed to be screaming at him to use the mirror-to free Sirius. Harry gulped and looked at the veil. The voices had quieted slightly. He heard them talking to him.  
  
"Free me, already, fool!"  
  
"What are you doing? Do you expect me to wait forever?"  
  
"What happened? Are you dead or are you just weak?"  
  
It was a danger, Harry realized. He endangered every human on the earth with that mirror. A long as Sirius remained in the veil with the other mirror, anyone could simply come in and open the portal and let the other dark lords out.  
  
Harry knew what he had to do. He tried to ignore the feeling in him that said he wanted to see Sirius again.  
  
"Sirius!" he whispered to the mirror. Nothing happened. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Seconds later he watched the thoughts of the unconscious and unprotected Malfoy, digging deep until he found what he sought.  
  
A minute later, Harry opened his eyes and blinked. He reached inside Malfoy's pocket and pulled out what looked like a small, glowing talisman. Putting it in his own pocket, he closed his eyes again.  
  
This time he stood in that same room. People surrounded him.  
  
"Hey! You're not the same person!"  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Let me out of here or you will regret it!"  
  
Harry frowned at the clutter of people around him.  
  
Flicking his wrist as he had seen Malfoy do, the threatening people vanished. They left him almost by himself. A few people sitting in the room looked at him.  
  
Harry didn't recognize any of them. Then he saw one man sitting in the back of the room, not looking anyone.  
  
"Sirius?"  
  
The man looked up. Harry's heart leapt into his throat.  
  
Sirius was unlike every other person. He knew only the young Harry-the innocent Harry. He never knew what Harry had become. As though the Fates gave Harry a clean slate.a second chance.  
  
"Harry?" the man asked hoarsely.  
  
"It's me, Sirius!" Harry said. He smiled a real smile-something that he had not done for such a long time that he became unclear whether he did it correctly.  
  
Sirius looked horrified. "Harry! My God! Not you too!"  
  
Harry grinned broader. "No! I'm here to bring you back!"  
  
The effect of these simple words on the others in the room amazed him. The jumped to their feet and started shouting at him.  
  
Harry's face closed again. Flicking his wrist violently, each and every person vanished except for Sirius.  
  
Sirius got unsteadily to his feet. "Are you really my godson?"  
  
"It's me!" Harry said, willing Sirius to believe him. "Who else would I be?"  
  
"That's what I want to know," Sirius said, looking almost mistrustfully at Harry. "You don't see me, but we sit here every day. Every person who has gone through that veil is doomed to sit on these steps and watch the world pass them by. We see all.and hear all."  
  
Harry's happiness slipped like a stone. He had heard his talk with Malfoy.  
  
"I know I've been here a while, but I have certainly not been alive for as long as it would take you to look that old."  
  
"An accident," Harry said coldly. A clean slate. Ridiculous. He would never get a second chance. "I got sucked through a portal and Malfoy followed. I'm here to stop him. Nothing else. I have already interfered."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked.  
  
"I'm from years into the future!" Harry snapped. "Voldemort is here in this time and there is no way your precious godson can ever defeat him at this rate-all thanks to me. I didn't mean to do a thing. I came on accident. But I suppose I can always leave you here. You will never have another chance."  
  
"I'll come!" Sirius said. "Anything is better than perpetuity of eternal boredom!"  
  
"Good," Harry said. "Because I couldn't leave you here anyway. That mirror in your pocket is a danger to the entire world. Malfoy there tried to use the connection to bring back a whole score of evil wizards."  
  
"Malfoy?" Sirius asked, coming down from his lofty position. "I thought he died."  
  
"I thought you saw all? Why would he be unconscious?"  
  
"Unconscious?"  
  
Horrified, Harry opened his real eyes, a shield charm barely on his lips, in time to get knocked over by a powerful jinx.  
  
The tiny bit of the shield that Harry had managed to create had stopped a very small portion of the curse.  
  
The jinx threw him backwards but failed to knock him completely unconscious. Blinking stars from his eyes, he struggled to his feet.  
  
Malfoy yelled something at him but he could barely hear a thing. The jinx had dazed him and, because of its power, one didn't recover from it right off the bat.  
  
Harry tired to bring Malfoy into focus. His eyes seemed to be functioning incorrectly. He felt another curse hit him. Harry threw up a shield as he felt himself fall to the ground. Malfoy's curses deflected off the shield. He cursed in rage and shot the killing curse at Harry. He could see the horrible green through the blur all around him. It blasted through his shield and hit him square on.  
  
Harry's scar burned like fire. It burned more than the rest of him, which felt as if it had been hit by a dozen Cruciatus curses at once.  
  
But his mother's love came through again. As long as Harry had his scar and his mother's love behind him, the killing curse would continue to bounce off. Voldemort's major weapon (the promise of quick death) had been gone in the final battle and left Voldemort unsure what he had to do to make Harry suffer. In the end, Harry suffered, but Voldemort died.  
  
Malfoy, of course, knew that the curse would not kill him, but it had the effect he desired. Harry shield flickered and died and left him weakened so much that any shield he might erect could not stand against the simplest jinxes.  
  
His next words penetrated Harry's jinx-induced daze. "And so ends the famous Harry Potter. I wonder what they'll say when they find your dead body."  
  
"Hopefully something different from Voldemort," said a new voice. "When he never finds yours."  
  
Malfoy suddenly gasped and fell to his knees. He looked at Harry in amazement before falling to the ground, unconscious.  
  
Harry looked up through his dazed vision and saw the kind face of his godfather standing over him.  
  
A/N: Whoops! Cliffy! Okay, not really, but sort of, in a way. I wasn't sure if I was overstepping my bounds as an authoress by bringing Sirius back (yes, I know lots of people do it, but I was exceptionally self-conscious). Anyway, I did and this is the finished product. I hoped you like it and I want to urge all of you to laugh hysterically whenever you hear someone say the word 'serious' when they're not talking about Sirius Black.  
  
Gil: You're nuts.  
  
Me: You should hear the things I think and don't say... 


	11. Back to Christmas Classics

Chapter 11: Back to Christmas Classics  
  
So wipe that smile off your face  
Before it gets too late  
There's only so much time  
For you to make up your mind  
  
-The Calling  
  
"Sorry I'm late. I found it rather difficult to claw my way out of that veil without help." He knelt beside Harry and felt his forehead. "You're burning up." He waved his wand and conjured a wet cloth. "I'm not very good at the healing arts. I practically failed that class in Auror training. Normally I wouldn't have gotten to be an Auror at all, but the demand was huge."  
  
Harry knew he was talking to make sure Harry focused on his voice and not slide into unconsciousness.  
  
"I'm glad you're back, Sirius," Harry heard himself say.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Sirius said. "I suppose that Malfoy brat had a bunch of pent-up rage about you."  
  
"It was an accident," Harry said. Sirius had to believe him. This was Sirius. His Sirius.  
  
"I know," Sirius said. "You couldn't do something like that."  
  
"You don't understand," Harry said. His vision slowly became clearer. "I could."  
  
"Or course you wouldn't," Sirius said.  
  
"You heard me," Harry said. "I killed his father. I'm as good as a Death Eater in my time! Everyone's dead. They died such a long time ago. And.And I'm all alone."  
  
"You're never alone," Sirius said firmly.  
  
"That's what Dumbledore said," Harry said, sighing. "And now he's dead too."  
  
"It's okay, Harry," Sirius said.  
  
Harry blinked. His vision had pretty much returned. His hearing sharpened and he didn't feel so sore all over. He also realized what he had said. He cursed and tried to get to his feet.  
  
"Language!" Sirius said, alarmed. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I have to go. I am in so much trouble now. I've got no idea why I would do something as stupid as this! Imagine what this could change! You're not supposed to come back! You never come back!"  
  
"Harry," Sirius grabbed Harry's shoulder. "From what you have told me, it doesn't matter, does it? Time has changed so much! I can only make it better, right?"  
  
"Oh yes," Harry said coldly. "Your definition of better! Harry can't win against Voldemort at this rate! Don't you understand? It's not about a better world! It's about me defeating Voldemort in the end!"  
  
"You mean Harry defeating Voldemort," Sirius said slowly.  
  
"That's what I said," Harry snapped.  
  
"You said 'me defeating Voldemort'. "  
  
"Did I?" Harry asked blinking.  
  
Sirius frowned. "Tell me, Harry. Are you honestly trying to help Harry, or are you trying to help yourself?"  
  
"Neither!" Harry said loudly. "I'm trying to get back home!"  
  
"For someone so determined to return home, you seem to have done quite a lot that can alter history in the end."  
  
Harry sighed. "I already tried once and the portal wouldn't let me through."  
  
"Maybe it thought you still had something to accomplish here," Sirius suggested.  
  
Harry looked at Sirius. "I hadn't thought of that."  
  
"Yeah, well, you always were a little slow," Sirius said, grinning.  
  
"I figured out Malfoy's plot, didn't I?" Harry asked, annoyed.  
  
"I was joking!" Sirius said defensively. "I didn't mean to offend you. So how many people know you're here?"  
  
"Far too many," Harry said. "Voldemort and Dumbledore felt me coming. Remus found out when Harry got really sick and I cured him. You know, of course. And a few of Voldemort's closer Death Eaters."  
  
"At least they haven't mentioned it in the Daily Prophet."  
  
"Don't jinx me!"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Let's get out of here," Harry said tiredly.  
  
"Just a minute," Sirius said. He looked back at the unconscious form of Draco Malfoy. "What are we doing with him?"  
  
"He's just going to hurt more people," Harry said.  
  
Sirius hesitated. "It's not like it's so horrible behind the veil. I mean, all it really is, is being bored to death except you never die.or age.  
  
"A fitting end," Harry said slowly. "He killed hundreds of people in my time."  
  
"We should turn him over to the authorities," Sirius said suddenly.  
  
"Voldemort will get him first."  
  
"Maybe not."  
  
"Yes he will."  
  
"Okay, he will. But is it really up to us to decide life and death?"  
  
"No," Harry said. "That's those seers' jobs, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," Sirius said. "We'll tie him up anyway."  
  
"That won't stop him."  
  
"We can leave him a mocking letter so if he does escape he'll get mad at us."  
  
"He already hates me."  
  
"So it won't harm anything."  
  
They did just that. They left Draco Malfoy bound and gagged with a note in his robe pocket. They left each finger individually tied and then tied again to the other fingers so he had no hope of getting out. It was the least they could do. Malfoy's fingers would be very sore for a long time. He might not be able to move them at all. Harry even put an immobilizing charm on them. He certainly couldn't get out on his own.  
  
They started to walk out.  
  
"Hang on," Sirius said. "Is my name cleared yet?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then how do you expect me to get out of the very Ministry of Magic that is hunting me down?"  
  
"No problem," Harry said. He grabbed Sirius's arm and concentrated.  
  
The next second they both stood in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts.  
  
"You can't Apparate onto the Hogwarts grounds!" Sirius said, surprised.  
  
"I didn't Apparate," Harry said simply. "Now let's get out of here before someone sees us."  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"We're going no where. I'm taking you to Lupin's office."  
  
"Why don't you want to come?"  
  
"Because I'm not on good terms with him right now. Like I said, he knows I'm here. I don't want to go barging in on a class or something. Besides, I have more important things to do."  
  
"Like what?" Sirius said skeptically.  
  
"It's none of your business," Harry said icily. He stopped at the look of hurt in Sirius's eyes. Taking a small breath, Harry tried to hold his tongue. "There's a lot going on right now. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. I'm not really your godson, remember? I'm the older version. You want the younger one."  
  
"You're still Harry," Sirius said firmly. "No matter what version you are."  
  
"It does matter," Harry said. "It matters quite a lot."  
  
"In what ways?"  
  
"We're just not the same people," Harry said.  
  
"You act like Harry."  
  
Harry paused. "No one's said that to me in a long time."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Let's just say, I'm not the best liked person in my time-and for good reason."  
  
"I'm afraid I can't bring myself to picture you disliked-well, unless." Sirius paused. "Is the entire world controlled by Death Eaters?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry scoffed. "Of course it isn't! Do you think I would defeat Voldemort and then let the entire world go to hell?"  
  
"I think you might," Sirius said seriously. Harry paused at the tone in his voice. "Because after all of that, I shouldn't expect you to want to set eyes on a Death Eater in many a great while."  
  
Harry grinned his sarcastic grin. "Shows how well you know your godson."  
  
"And what does that mean?"  
  
"It means I spend every waking hour hunting down the few remaining Death Eaters. I have nothing left. It's all I know, Sirius. It's who I am."  
  
"There is a very large difference," Sirius said sharply. "Between whom you choose to be, and who you are."  
  
"That contradicts everything Dumbledore told me in my second year. He said our choices show who we are, far more than our abilities."  
  
They stopped in front of the door to Lupin's office.  
  
"I never said anything about your abilities," Sirius said frowning. "I've seen tonight that you can do whatever the hell you want. All I know is that once you reach a certain age, you are who you are, and not even your choices can hide that."  
  
"Ever read a Christmas Carol?"  
  
"I have."  
  
"Scrooge changed."  
  
"That proves my point entirely."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Well, he wasn't always like that, was he? Don't you remember the flashbacks? He was a good person. It's his old age that turned him sour. And in the end, he went back to the way he was originally."  
  
"Are you comparing him to me then?"  
  
"Completely."  
  
"I hate to tell you this," Harry said quietly, "But it's going to take a lot more than three ghosts to make me return to how I was originally."  
  
"Like a journey back in time, perhaps?" Sirius asked suddenly. Harry looked at him sharply but that being said, Sirius avoided Harry's eyes and silently pushed open the door. The room was empty.  
  
"I suppose I'll just wait here, shall I? He's probably in class." He turned to look at Harry and found his godson had vanished completely.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry did not vanish from the castle that day. His footsteps had been swift and silent, but he had not vanished. Normally he would not have thought twice about it, but walking away from his godfather made everything more final. He could not see his godfather again. It was not his godfather. It was his younger-self's godfather. Like his younger self's life that he had just walked in on.  
  
So that's it then, Harry thought angrily. I've gone back to feeling sorry for myself. Can I possibly sink any lower?  
  
He pushed open the doors in the Entrance Hall angrily.  
  
A bell went off in his head.  
  
Alarmed, he looked up again and saw, to his horror, that the castle grounds seemed to be under attack! Death Eaters covered most everywhere, though cleverly concealed. If not for his advanced senses, he would not have noticed them.  
  
He scurried back into the Entrance Hall. Voldemort would attack and he had to alert someone-now.  
  
As though an answer to his prayers, a teacher walked into the Hall from the dungeons.  
  
As though the Lord mocked him for praying, it was Snape.  
  
Harry thrust aside any malice he might have had. Snape had never been on his list of Death Eaters.  
  
Harry's hood went up from where he had carelessly let it drop. "Snape," he called from across the hall.  
  
Snape looked up. His eyes narrowed. "And who are you?"  
  
"No one to concern yourself with," Harry said. "There are more pressing matters surrounding your castle."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Must I spell it out for you? Voldemort-" (Snape flinched) "-is preparing to launch an attack on the castle as we speak. There is no time for questions. Looking outside to confirm my words would be foolhardy and result on in Hogwart's destruction. I suggest you find someone who knows what they are doing and perhaps send the students to safety before preparing to fight back."  
  
Snape stared.  
  
Harry seethed inwardly. "For someone who likes to hear himself speak quite as much as you do," Harry said through gritted teeth. "It seems odd to me that in such a critical time you would choose to go mute. Perhaps you could pull yourself together long enough to prevent us all from dying horribly."  
  
Snape blinked. "I shall alert the head-the others." Snape hurried away, shooting a suspicious glance at Harry over his shoulder.  
  
Harry turned back to the door and closed his eyes searching.feeling around for.that. He could sense Voldemort's presence. This could not be the final battle. It was not time. Harry was not ready. He would have to interfere.again.  
  
He whirled around and headed up the stairs to the headmaster's office. Fawkes could be of invaluable help, though he had not been seen since Dumbledore's death.  
  
"I shall rot in hell when it is time for me to die," Harry muttered angrily to himself. "Not that that's unexpected."  
  
There was not enough time. Harry felt his mind slowly start toward the panicking range and pushed it away. He had no time for something like that. He only had to push Voldemort away. He couldn't defeat him. The responsibility no longer rested upon him.  
  
He passed a window and felt rather than saw that the Death Eaters had not yet finished preparing. They had time.  
  
Harry stopped outside the door to the headmaster's old office. Then he realized he didn't have the password. With a flick of his wrist, he instantly appeared inside.  
  
Fawkes snoozed gently on his perch. The old headmasters and headmistresses showed no traces of sleepiness, however, and looked outraged to see Harry pop in, in such a manner.  
  
"You are not allowed in this office," said the wizard with the bulbous nose angrily. "Without permission of the true headmaster!"  
  
"Dumbledore is dead," Harry said shortly. "I came for Fawkes."  
  
The phoenix awakened when his name was called. He blinked sleepily in recognition to his name.  
  
"He's dead?" asked Phineas blankly. "But he has no portrait!"  
  
"Indeed," Harry said, his mind only half on the conversation. He looked at Fawkes who gazed back with a mistrustful eye.  
  
"Is that all you can think about?" said another wizard angrily. "Dumbledore's dead! He's dead! That means there is no headmaster of Hogwarts!"  
  
"But the portrait," explained Phineas patiently. "We all had to have the portrait. How is the school to function if the portrait is missing? Dumbledore's soul cannot be put to rest without the portrait!"  
  
"It's true," agreed a witch. "I suppose Harry here will have to make it for him."  
  
Harry looked up at his name. Fawkes had been avoiding him tactfully. "What did you say?"  
  
"You'll have to make the portrait, boy!" Phineas said, annoyed. "It's not like there's anyone else. Besides, unless the one person Dumbledore cared for most makes the portrait, the portrait will be incomplete. It will be just like the portraits outside this room. They had no memory of before the painting!"  
  
"I don't paint," Harry said coldly, turning his attention back to Fawkes. "And what is wrong with this bird?"  
  
"That's Dumbledore's bird," said a witch sharply. "We don't even know how he trained it."  
  
"You can't train a phoenix," Harry said, annoyed at the ignorance. "It has to pledge itself to you. It's the same way you can't give one as a pet. The phoenix won't leave the one it has chosen until death! Dumbledore's dead, Fawkes! There are others who need you now!"  
  
"You don't have to paint," said the bulbous nosed wizard, annoyed. "I can't explain it! You just know and the painting comes."  
  
"I don't have time for this," Harry said. He turned to the paintings that gazed appraisingly at him. "It a few moments time, the school will be attacked by Death Eaters. All inside the school will die. I have to get help because I trusted Snape to tell the other teachers and there is no possible way that can happen without him seeing proof. He's probably looked out the window and seen nothing with his normal vision and thinks I'm an elaborate joke set on him. We don't have enough time."  
  
"Dumbledore always trusted Snape," said a witch, nodding sagely.  
  
"Don't see why not," Phineas grumbles. "He's one of the few good teachers I've seen."  
  
"He became a Death Eaters at one point," said a wizard. "Of course people have a right to be suspicious."  
  
"He changed," Phineas interjected. "Why try to correct a mistake, if you hold no hope of redemption?"  
  
Scattered mutterings to this came from the other portraits.  
  
"Do not a single one of you care that Dumbledore-this castle's last and only real line of defense-is dead?" Harry asked angrily. Fawkes now sat next to the Sorting Hat, deftly avoiding him. "This entire castle is going to be swamped with Death Eaters before you can make up your minds on some trivial information?"  
  
"You underestimate the amount of wards surrounding this castle," said a witch dismissively. "There's no way the Death Eaters can get in as long as the wards are in place!"  
  
"Did Dumbledore believe I am from the future?" Harry asked.  
  
There was a general murmur of assent.  
  
"Do you think that I'm the kind of person that is easily rattled?" Harry asked with patience he'd forgotten he'd had.  
  
"Not really," said a wizard.  
  
"Then perhaps you could consider for a moment that the reason I am rattled currently is because in my time the wards didn't hold and all of Hogwarts went to hell."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Do you understand English?" Harry asked angrily. "We're going to fail! Then we're going to die!"  
  
"That's a little extreme," said Phineas.  
  
"Said by you," Harry said scoffing. "And why won't this damn bird stop avoiding me?"  
  
"Phoenix's are a good judge of character," said a witch as Harry tried unsuccessfully to capture it again. Normally he would have used magic had he not known that his wand and magic would be useless against its core.  
  
"What are you implying?" Harry asked. "He's always helped me before!"  
  
"Times are different," said a wizard sharply. "You should know that. Dumbledore knew that."  
  
"I am not Dumbledore," Harry said coldly.  
  
"Then perhaps you have answered your previous question without our help," said Phineas wisely.  
  
"Shut up," Harry growled. "If I needed anymore philosophical comments, I would have asked Sirius."  
  
"Sirius is dead," Phineas said. "I believe you are the one that told me that the first time."  
  
"Indeed," Harry said. "I hate to break this to you, but that occurred in a completely different time. Sirius is back now. I'm surprised you haven't heard."  
  
"He's back?" Phineas asked blankly. "But how?"  
  
"Long story. This is pointless!" He yelled suddenly. "Fine! If Fawkes is going to let all those innocent children die, I suppose that's his business."  
  
Fawkes blinked down at him.  
  
Harry turned on his heel and, with a flick of his wrist, appeared suddenly in Lupin's office.  
  
"The castle is under attack," Harry said, without looking at the stunned faces of Sirius and Lupin. "We have to get the students out of here before any of them die."  
  
"Harry," Lupin said. "Sirius just finished explaining. How did you-"  
  
"God Dammit!" Harry cursed loudly. Lupin and Sirius looked taken aback. "Is that really more important than the safety of the students? They're going to die. Will no one listen? The only one that's done anything is Snape and that's saying something. Fawkes isn't helping! The idiot portraits in Dumbledore's office could only babble on!"  
  
Sirius looked out the window. "I don't see anything."  
  
"You can't see them," Harry said angrily. "But I thought you had enough faith in me to realize that I can see beyond the obvious. I know we've lost our mighty leader, but the world keeps going! Or, perhaps we should go ahead and let Voldemort win! Hell, let's toss Harry Potter out there with his wand and hold our breaths!"  
  
Lupin snapped into action. "Right. I'll get the teachers together. That way we can get the students out faster. Neither of you should be seen if you can help it. It would cause a distraction." With that he hurried from the room.  
  
Sirius turned to Harry. "You say Snape helped you out?"  
  
"He came from the dungeons."  
  
"That's not normal," Sirius said. "If a Death Eater attack were happening, wouldn't he know about it?"  
  
"He should," Harry said. "But perhaps Voldemort knows something we don't know."  
  
Sirius said nothing. He had not left his perch at the window. "Are you sure there's someone out there? I really don't see anything."  
  
"I know you can't," Harry said. "But I can. Voldemort's presence has been getting stronger. He's out there, Sirius. And he's ready for the final battle."  
  
"And Harry?"  
  
"He's not ready. He can't possibly. He doesn't have it in him to win yet."  
  
"What will we do against Voldemort?"  
  
"I'll hold him off."  
  
"No way! He's too dangerous! He could kill you!"  
  
"No, he can't," Harry said. Voldemort's presence felt so close that he though he should see him if he only looked out the window. "He knows he isn't stronger than me. He won't try anything. He doesn't want to beat me. That would risk his loosing. But he doesn't mind fighting Harry. He underestimates him."  
  
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"  
  
"Hopefully good. It worked for me, didn't it?"  
  
"I don't want Harry to fight Voldemort," Sirius said suddenly. "In fact, I'd prefer he didn't."  
  
"No kidding," Harry said sarcastically. "But it's a little too late now, don't you think?"  
  
Sirius said nothing.  
  
Harry suddenly froze. "They're moving," he said abruptly.  
  
Sirius looked out the window. "I see them! There are hundreds of them!"  
  
"And 20 of us," Harry said grimly. He grabbed Sirius's shoulder and the next second they appeared in a small side chamber to the Entrance Hall.  
  
Lupin seemed to have rallied the teachers there. The heads of houses were not there.  
  
"What's happening?" Harry asked, leaving his hiding place, his cloak pulled over his face.  
  
Lupin hurried forward. "They're moving. We've got some teachers stationed above in hopes that they can shot some people down before we get over run."  
  
"And the students?"  
  
"Safely out," Lupin said.  
  
"Excellent."  
  
At that moment Professor Vector came running down the stairs. "It's no good! They're got some kind of. of dark magic shielding them from attacks from above. We have to go on foot!"  
  
Lupin looked at Harry. "Got it," Harry said. The next second he vanished and appeared with a pop in front of McGonagall where she stood, still pointlessly sending spells down at the tide of black slowly marching toward the school.  
  
"What are we doing?" She asked. She turned and saw Harry. "Who are you?"  
  
"Just another person," Harry said, not wanting to make up an elaborate lie. "I'm here to help."  
  
"I don't know what you can do," McGonagall said. "No spells can hit them!"  
  
Harry shot a spell down at the Death Eaters. Instead of bouncing back, it seemed to vanish. Harry recognized it instantly.  
  
"Right. Okay, get ready to shoot some people down," Harry said. He closed his eyes and focused on the magic in front of him. A huge black cloud obscured his inward vision of the advancing army. That was the shield. But it all focused around one point.  
  
Harry nodded to himself. That person resembled something like a secret keeper. Voldemort chose someone to hold the magic in place and if that person went down, so did the shield. That person stood in the dead center. Harry would have one shot.  
  
Instead of weakening the shield, every attempt to bring it down simply strengthened it. Trust Voldemort to use a spell like this. Harry unconsciously pulled his wand out of his pocket. Taking aim, Harry pointed it at the central person in that great mass. He recognized the signature- Wormtail. No wonder Voldemort had picked him. He wasn't good for much else.  
  
"Cassure!" Harry shouted. His wand came swishing over his head, straight at the person who betrayed his parents. Harry heard as though from far away McGonagall's intake of breath as a huge jet of light exploded from the end of his wand. Harry felt himself mentally, on the wings of the curse, fly forward. He steered his way to the very center and got one look at Peter Pettigrew's face before the spell hit and Wormtail dropped like a stone. The black cloud above the Death Eaters flickered and died.  
  
"Shoot!" Harry yelled. He opened his eyes where he still stood on the roof, his hood still pulled down over his face. "Curse them all! Now!" The impressed looks of those next to him quickly left and they turned their attention back to the battle at hand.  
  
A/N: Oh no! My story is winding down to an end! Just as a side note, when I got here when I was writing, I was thinking 'Okay, how can I get them out of this situation?' Then I came to the startling conclusion that this was the climax! Bum! Bum! Bum! Okay, that's done. I'm really going to have to start writing my other story... 


	12. Back Through the Fighting

A/N: Answers to the reviews at the end! That is all.  
  
Gilthas: About time.  
  
Me: Shut up...  
  
Chapter 12: Back through the Fighting  
  
Look around, the writing's on the wall  
Don't you think we're all feeling crazed  
In a world, where nothing's as it seems  
Paved with broken dreams  
  
-The Calling  
  
Lupin looked up at the ceiling. Seconds ago it seemed that the entire castle had shook and he had felt sure that the battle would be over before it had barely begun.  
  
A complete and utter silence had filled the Hall. Professor Trelawney, who abandoned her mystic air completely in light of the attack, had her ear pressed to the door. She looked up and Lupin could almost hear her say, "They're celebrating."  
  
But she didn't. She looked thoroughly confused as she said, "I think we're winning."  
  
* * *  
  
Harry Potter and his friend Ron Weasley alone remained of the students in the school. Harry felt a sick feeling in his stomach to know that they could be in safety right now, but Hermione was missing-and they had to find her.  
  
"Maybe she went with another house," Ron suggested tentatively.  
  
Harry shook his head. "She's been missing ever since she went on that walk around the lake this morning. Ron.I think she might." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.  
  
"Don't think like that," Ron said angrily. "Hermione's fine! We just have to find her and get her out of here-"  
  
They're feet slipped out from under them and they hit the ground with a thud as a tremendous earthquake seemed to flash beneath their feet. A portrait fell of the wall. Its occupants ran scurrying to another portrait where they looked on in horror.  
  
"What was that?" Ron asked weakly.  
  
"I dunno," Harry said. "But it couldn't have been good."  
  
"Where do you think Hermione is?" Ron asked, trying to sound calm.  
  
"I dunno. I suppose we might have to go outside."  
  
"God I hope not."  
  
It took a lot of Harry's willpower not to reply with a fervent agreement. He could not go soft.  
  
"Where are we?" Ron asked. Harry lead, but even he had trouble finding his way. Everything seemed different now-like this a different Hogwarts entirely.  
  
"I think we're near the kitchens," Harry said after a moment.  
  
"What are we doing here?" Ron asked. "Aren't we trying to get out of the castle?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm not sure how we got here. I thought that passageway on the third floor lead to the Defense against the Dark Arts corridor."  
  
"It does," Ron said, looking around. "Is that what we went through?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, looking around.  
  
"You know." Ron said, his voice quivering a little. "People do say that Hogwarts is practically alive. What if it doesn't want us to leave?"  
  
"We have to find Hermione!" Harry said urgently, grasping at straws and momentarily going with the idea. "Maybe you could let us out for a second!" There was no answer. "Please?" he asked.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"So much for that idea," Ron said grimly. "Hey, do you hear voices?"  
  
"I think we're near the Entrance Hall," Harry said suddenly, quickening his pace.  
  
"Don't go in there!" Ron said in a frantic whisper seconds before Harry came to a dead stop.  
  
"Sh!" Harry whispered. "I think I can hear what they're saying!"  
  
"-you mean we're winning?" asked the familiar voice of Professor Lupin.  
  
"That's what it sounds like," said the not-so-mystic voice of Trelawney.  
  
"It's true!" said Flitwick in his high-pitched squeak. "I can hear them yelling."  
  
"Then he did it," Lupin said quietly. He must be nearby, Harry reasoned. He could hear him perfectly.  
  
"When do we go out?" Asked Hagrid.  
  
"When we get the signal," Lupin said with a note of finality in his voice.  
  
"Who was that guy?" Asked Professor Snape. "He's the one that originally told me about the invasion. I alerted the other teachers at once." He seemed determined to leave them in no doubt of the sacrifice of his time and effort.  
  
"He is unimportant," said Lupin. "He's on our side. That's all you need to know."  
  
"Are you sure?" Asked Professor Sprout. "Because he just Apparated in the Hogwart's grounds. I'd prefer not to have an enemy like that on the inside."  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other in the darkness. Hermione had mentioned something of the sort months back.  
  
"You don't have to worry about his loyalty," Lupin said stiffly. "It is more likely that Dumbledore himself turned traitor."  
  
No more questions followed after that. They stood in silence for a while.  
  
"It is time," said a voice suddenly. Harry didn't recognize it. Ron however, looked at Harry.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I didn't say anything."  
  
"Oh, I thought you did."  
  
"Where are they?" Lupin asked quickly.  
  
"They are much to close to the castle. We managed to take out the first 10 lines or so, but that's about all we can do." He seemed to have taken Lupin aside because the next moment he spoke quieter so that Harry had to strain to hear him.  
  
"Are all the students gone?"  
  
"Every one of them."  
  
"Good. His presence is getting stronger by the second. I can barely feel anything else. He's not the happiest person in the world at the second. I think he's a little annoyed at me for taking out his carefully prepared shield."  
  
"Good," Lupin said. "Let's see what we can do." His voice grew louder until he shouted to the hall. "On my signal, we leave!"  
  
Harry's hand tightened instinctively on his wand. He felt Ron stiffen beside him. He had been given early Auror training and many of the practice rounds had been similar to this.  
  
But this is the real thing, he reminded himself. No one's going to stop attacking me if I do something wrong.  
  
The next minute seemed to drag by forever. Suddenly, he heard the unknown man say. "It's time."  
  
"Let's go!" Lupin yelled. With what sounded to Harry like a war cry, the teachers ran from the Hall. Harry didn't dare look out yet. He had the odd feeling that someone had not followed.  
  
"And neither must die at the hands of the other," said a voice softly. "For neither can live while the other survives. I never thought it should happen like this."  
  
Ron sent Harry a questioning look. Harry felt a guilty twinge in his stomach. It had been two years since Harry knew the prediction and he had never once mentioned it to Ron or Hermione. He had felt at the time that if he never mentioned it, maybe it would go away. But what did this unknown man mean by saying it now? He heard footsteps start to leave the hall.  
  
More footsteps came hurrying after him.  
  
"Couldn't stay behind, could you?" said the man.  
  
"You know me," said a voice that sounded familiar to Harry. "Always jumping in, just for the heck of it."  
  
The voice clicked in Harry's mind. But it couldn't be.could it? He poked his head out from behind the door that concealed him, but all he saw was the door swinging shut behind them.  
  
He turned to Ron. "Let's go."  
  
* * *  
  
Harry surveyed the battle ground below him.  
  
"So it begins.again," Harry muttered.  
  
Sirius looked at him. "What's that?"  
  
"The ultimate battle for survival."  
  
"Is that so?" Sirius asked. "Perhaps this is only the first time."  
  
Harry looked at him. "I have to go. Voldemort's looking for me."  
  
"Right," Sirius said. "Well, don't get yourself killed."  
  
"You know me," Harry said with a small smile.  
  
"Too right I do," Sirius muttered. With a last look at Harry he drew his wand and leapt into the battle, instantly stunning a Death Eater trying furiously to get a curse to penetrate Hagrid's giant's hide.  
  
Harry leapt off the side of the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall and landed silently on the soft earth beneath it.  
  
He looked around. Voldemort was close. He could feel it. He didn't even try to hide his signal. Harry would have betted that even a first year could feel him coming. The trouble, it seemed, was that his signal seemed to be everywhere at once. The shield charm that had been raised earlier bore his signature and thus covered his Death Eaters in it.  
  
Harry sensed the presence-if not the exact signature of a Death Eater heading his way. He raised a hand without bothering to look up and the Death Eater grasped his throat. His ability to breath diminished greatly. It would not kill him unless he overexerted himself. This was a battle. You could almost count on overexertion.  
  
Harry continued on his way. He stopped trying to hide his signature and, like a wave, his power washed over the battle, an equivalent to the Dark Lords own. None but the more powerful wizards noticed anything, however. The battle continued to rage and people continued to fall.  
  
Harry searched in what he knew must be an almost fruitless attempt. His only hope lay in the idea that the Dark Lord would find him. He had almost reached the Forbidden Forest. He looked around, cursing another Death Eater too stupid to know that he stood no chance against him. The Death Eater hit another battler and fell to the ground.  
  
Harry stepped into the forest. As if a giant pillow covered him, he suddenly felt smothered. The Dark Magic filled the forest so thickly here that it would be overwhelming to even a Muggle. Harry held out his hand and blew into it. Instantly a small ball of light appeared. It had a much longer range than the Lumos charm.  
  
His light seemed to drive back the pressing forces of evil-a tiny speck of good, standing against the tidal wave of malevolence.  
  
"I'm here," Harry said loudly. "You called?"  
  
"Indeed," said a voice that was not the Dark Lord. Harry did not turn around, trying to identify the location of the speaker. He stood on their turf now. They could be anywhere. He would be wasting energy trying to seek them out.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said, his lips curling into their usual smirk. "An honor, I'm sure. How are your fingers? They don't hurt, do they? Because next time I bind and gag you I'll be sure to put them a little looser."  
  
"That won't be necessary," said the voice of Draco Malfoy from the darkness around him. "I can assure you that you will not catch me off-guard again."  
  
"I think maybe 'off-guard' is something of an excuse," Harry said. "It would seem to me that being able to summon a spirit to do your dirty work before I can attack you is more like 'prepared'."  
  
"Witty, Potter." Harry could tell he was scowling. "But I have the upper hand this time. You're on my turf. You play by my rules."  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said in mock exasperation. "You would think that after 3 times, that threat wouldn't mean quite as much."  
  
"You haven't seen anything yet," Malfoy said. "I've come completely prepared this time. I've managed to lure you here. Perhaps now I can avenge my father's death-and steal back his memory."  
  
"Maybe 'win back' is more appropriate," Harry said. "Since I already stole it."  
  
"That won't work today, Potter," Malfoy said. Wherever he hid, he must be smirking now. "Now that revenge has come, anger seems like a thing of the past."  
  
"That's almost an oxymoron," Harry said in a lazy tone, while every sense tingled, more ready for a fight than it had been in months. "Anger of something from the past is what revenge is. If anger truly was something of the past, you wouldn't be revengeful."  
  
"Now I understand why you killed Granger!" Malfoy said sarcastically. "You wanted to channel her spirit so maybe you could get her smarts."  
  
"Now I understand why you decided to kill Crabbe and Goyle," Harry said, mimicking Malfoy's tone. "You wanted to channel their spirits so you could get their extreme stupidity."  
  
"Catchy," Malfoy said. "Any last words before I kill you horribly?"  
  
"Just a few," Harry said. "Has anyone ever told you that you looked better as a ferret?"  
  
Harry could just see in his mind Malfoy's smirk fade to a look of anger. "Has anyone ever told you that you look better as a rotting corpse?"  
  
"Now that you mention it." Harry said sarcastically.  
  
Harry sensed a sudden motion to his right. He instantly dropped to the ground, his light vanishing as he threw up a glowing shield charm all around himself.  
  
Malfoy's curse never came. Instead, with a loud 'Bang!' Harry felt a small piece of metal tuck itself firmly in his right shoulder.  
  
Harry's shield fell, throwing the area into protective darkness. Harry collapsed to the ground, and rolled so Malfoy would loose his location. He tried to control his breathing. He had never been shot before. Harry closed his eyes and briefly leaned against a tree, placing his hand over the wound and concentrating with all his strength on pulling the bullet out of him. It hurt like hell, but Harry gritted his teeth together to make no noise.  
  
"Where are you, Potter?" Malfoy asked. "I'm surprised, your mother being a Mudblood, that you would expect something more Muggle."  
  
Harry said nothing. He got to his feet and whispered a spell under his breath.  
  
"It's not the weapon that surprises me," said Harry's voice from the place opposite his location. "It's the person behind the weapon."  
  
Malfoy did not shoot as Harry had expected. He sniggered. "Do you expect me to be that stupid? I know perfectly well that I have a limited number of bullets. I'm not shooting at ghosts."  
  
Harry looked at the bullet in his hand. He had an idea, but it would create a light and he couldn't have Malfoy shooting at him again. The pain in his arm lessened considerably less now that he had removed the bullet. He tuned it out.  
  
Flicking his wrist, Harry placed a hovering charm on himself and grabbed a tree limb, pulling himself off the ground. Taking firm hold of the tree, Harry pushed and light shot down the tree. In an instant and suddenly the very grass beneath Malfoy's feet lit up with light.  
  
Malfoy looked surprised. Taking full advantage, Harry threw the bullet straight at him, wrapping it in spells and enchantments. Malfoy saw it coming before it hit and got out of the way, but the spells kept the bullet on target and moving fast. The bullet ripped through the flesh in Malfoy's wand arm, sinking deep into the muscle until it hit bone.  
  
Malfoy flinched visibly. With a slash of his wand, he melted into the shadows. Harry waved his hand quickly and the lighted ground lost its bright luminosity. Darkness plunged in around them.  
  
Harry slipped out of the tree, muttering healing charms as he went. Nothing healed instantly, but some of the blood vessels started to repair themselves.  
  
"Are we hiding, Potter?" Malfoy asked from the blackness.  
  
Harry silently slipped through the trees, his feet making no mark on the earth.  
  
Harry raised his good arm and summoned the gun to him. The spell caught hold instantly but Malfoy realized what was happening and fought back with magic of his own. Malfoy's powers proved formidable, Harry realized. He had improved. Perhaps all he needed was preparation.  
  
Harry suddenly let go of the spell. Malfoy took a step backward in surprise. Harry heard him.  
  
Instantly 3 spells were on top of Malfoy. He quickly began loosing his edge. He sent up a shield for them. It repelled the first two but the third one blasted through, knocking him backwards. His feet regained their foothold instantly, but he wasn't quick enough. Harry sent a hex his way. The gun in his hand became a melting mass. Malfoy yelled in pain as the liquid metal hit his hand.  
  
The wound in Harry's shoulder had almost healed. The skin worked to repair itself now. Malfoy's wand was in his hand. Harry sensed the presence of it. Wands are the basis for magic, Malfoy's proving no exception. Its previous lack of use was perhaps the reason Harry's third hex had hit home. The shield requires a wand to stay strong over long periods of time.  
  
Suddenly Harry's whole body began to glow with an eerie green color. Realizing how vulnerable he was in the dark, Harry transfigured instantly into a lethifold. He still glowed, but lethifolds are fast and horrifically lethal. Malfoy sent spell after spell at it but it bounced harmlessly off Harry's back. Harry's own magic could protect him from one of two curses that could harm it. The Killing Curse was useless.  
  
Malfoy, however, knew the lethifold's other weakness.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!" Malfoy roared. What looked like a giant Runespoor burst forth. The three-headed snake approached Harry, spitting and hissing.  
  
Harry slithered up a tree and transformed back to human form. The Runespoor faded. Malfoy didn't. Harry, still lit by the eerie glow, felt a spell hit him in the stomach, sending him flying out of the tree.  
  
He hit the ground with a sickening crack and felt his arm break beneath him.  
  
"Sounds like it hurt," Malfoy said sneeringly from the shadows.  
  
Angry with the light that had given him away, Harry whispered a spell and instantly the forest plunged into darkness again. Harry could hear Malfoy approaching. He was cocky. Too cocky.  
  
Harry waved his uninjured hand and instantly he was back in his tree. He felt his arm, biting back the pain that it caused. It had not fractured- just cracked. Harry pulled out his wand and tapped it. Instantly it healed. He had not spent all his time learning curses and jinxes.  
  
He put his wand back in his pocket. Harry was back on the ground in seconds. Squinting through the darkness, Harry could make out the vague outline of Malfoy. Good enough. Harry whispered a spell and Malfoy himself started to glow.  
  
Harry sent hexes flying like there was no tomorrow. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Voldemort. He had forgotten about Voldemort. Who knew what havoc he had created in Harry's absence!?!  
  
Harry paused in his curse throwing. No sound came from Malfoy. The glowing had vanished. He stared into the blackness.  
  
Decided he must be completely unconscious, Harry started back towards the castle. He heard a noise behind him. Instantly Harry transfigured into a cobra. His teeth sank deep into flesh. He had bitten Malfoy.  
  
Harry let go and transformed back into a human. He stared down at Malfoy. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He knew what it felt like to feel the poisonous venom running through your veins.knowing you would soon die.  
  
Malfoy suddenly laughed, a cold cruel laugh.  
  
What?" Harry asked sharply. "You're dying, moron."  
  
"I am," Malfoy said, his pleasure evident. "But I have lived for as long as I needed. You have failed, Potter. The boy is dead."  
  
Harry felt his insides go cold. "You were a decoy."  
  
"Very good, Potter," Malfoy said. "And now that you have failed in your duty, I have achieved mine. I have destroyed you, Potter. Like you destroyed me!"  
  
"You destroyed yourself, Malfoy," Harry said coldly. He couldn't stay longer. He took off at a run. Behind him he felt Malfoy's life leave him...  
  
He wasn't too late...  
  
Malfoy didn't know...  
  
Harry was still alive...  
  
Harry ran like there was no tomorrow, everything inside him searching desperately...  
  
A/N: Okay! Reviews!  
  
Dumbledore: (3003) Yeah, I'm actually planning to even out the playing field a little in later chapters...  
  
HongMing: (3003) I would! But I can't because I don't have the ending and it's really easier if I don't have to worry about a lot of it. I mean, I can simply write as slowly as I want (which isn't that slowly) and post every time I finish typing another chapter. Sorry!  
  
sab: (3003) Thanks...  
  
Slimpun: (3003) Yeah, still I wasn't sure just how much more powerful I wanted to make Harry, but I think it's okay...  
  
Sea-Turtles: (3003) Thanks! I'm really trying!  
  
The Mystical Elf: (3003) Thanks. Quick replay. Yeah, I kind of liked the Quid scene. They outlawed Quidditch, you know, because of frequency of injury so they had to change the name to Quid. Anyway, just a note.  
  
Nexux3: (3003) All will be revealed!!!  
  
BlackDiva: (Back to Back Then) Er...sorry about the cliffy. I honestly didn't realize it when I did it, but I did get some bloodshed in!  
  
SilverKnight7: (BtBT) Yeah...um...don't read the end to this chapter...  
  
A-man: (BtBT) Thanks! Very enthusiastic.  
  
Cr1Ms0n^D3v1L: (BtBT) Er...thanks...you know...whatever... *is rather confused* *smiles anyway*  
  
Gemini: Why does everyone think I'm going to kill off Sirius again? I love that little guy!  
  
A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! It makes a newbie author so happy!  
  
Guy off Monty Python: I feel happy! I think I'll go for a walk!  
  
Me: That was unexpected...  
  
Gilthas: Yeah...I think this is one of those times I really don't want a look at the inside of your mind...  
  
Me: I second that, and I'm the one thinking it... 


	13. Back to Earlier

Thanks for all the awesome reviews! They make me very happy!  
  
Gil: Lots of things ake you happy. Like cheese, for example.  
  
Me: Cheese rocks!!!  
  
Chapter 13: Back to Earlier  
  
I know by the look  
That I see in your eyes  
I won't stand around  
And I won't watch you die...  
  
-Nickelback  
  
Not 10 minutes earlier...  
  
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley made their way through the now bloody battlefield. The sights and smells were thoroughly repulsive. Harry had to work hard to keep himself from being violently sick.  
  
They had to leap to the ground several times to avoid curses and soon they were anything but spotless.  
  
"Where are we going?" Ron asked.  
  
"The Forbidden Forest," Harry told him. Ron did not argue. Harry didn't know how, but somehow he knew exactly where he would find Hermione. A sense of urgency grew within him. His scar burned horribly against his head but he hardly felt a thing. Hermione was in trouble.  
  
Ron yelled. Harry turned sharply on his heal, wand raised. A Death Eater bore down on his friend.  
  
Harry's reason left him at the sight of his friend's impending danger. Without thinking, he yelled, "Hey!"  
  
The Death Eater looked up. When he saw Harry, he hesitated and took a step backwards. The next second it dropped to the ground. Harry saw Lupin with his wand pointing at the Death Eater. Lupin blinked when he saw Harry.  
  
This is it, Harry thought.  
  
His professor shook his head. "Never thought I'd see the day when you let your guard down."  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Lupin followed Harry's gaze and looked horrified to see Ron standing there. "What are you doing out here? You should have taken a portkey out of here with the others!"  
  
"What-" Ron began, completely nonplussed.  
  
"Bloody hell," Remus muttered-which, Harry thought, seemed highly appropriate for their present predicament. "Why did you let him out here?" He asked Harry angrily. The next second he pulled something out of his pocket and grabbed Ron's arm.  
  
"Professor!" Harry yelled, panicked.  
  
It was too late. Lupin opened his mouth, the surprised expression on his face quickly turning to one of horror. The next second they vanished, leaving Harry very much alone.  
  
Harry froze. His immobility lasted seconds longer than expected. A Death Eater fell back onto him, clutching his throat as if he couldn't breathe. The Death Eater's attacker-whose head was cloaked-turned and walked into the forest.  
  
The Death Eater struggled to his feet. When he saw Harry, his eyes opened wider and he fumbled for a wand, still breathing in ragged gasps as if he was overexerting himself.  
  
Harry's wand was already in his hand. Pointing it at the Death Eater, he shouted, "Stupefy!"  
  
The Death Eater was ready. A simple shield stopped Harry's curse and sent him ducking to the ground as it rebounded back on him. Harry rolled and sent a spell flying at the Death Eater before he could even get back on his feet.  
  
His wand moving quickly, the Death Eater blocked it and sent three spells, one after the other, straight at Harry. Harry sent the first two back at him and dodged the third one as he felt his shield weakening.  
  
His shield dropped with him and the next second the Death Eater shot the Impedimenta Jinx at Harry and hit him hard in the side. He froze instantly.  
  
The Death Eater smirked, still having trouble breathing. "My master... will be pleased... when he learns... of your demise."  
  
Harry couldn't say anything and the curse showed no signs of weakening.  
  
The Death Eater raised his wand.  
  
Like a flash of light, thought shot through Harry's mind. He couldn't do anything! Hermione was in trouble...Hermione was in trouble!  
  
Determination rose in Harry. He couldn't just stand there while his friends were in trouble! Yes, he had a 'saving people thing', but these were his friends! He'd lost too many to the hand of Voldemort to loose another. He couldn't back down without a fight.  
  
The Death Eater saw none of this. He brought his wand swooshing over his head yelling, "Avada-"  
  
The next second he blew backwards by an unknown force. Harry's limbs instantly regained feeling and he looked down upon the Death Eater, power coursing through him that he had never known before.  
  
He was beyond any form of astonishment. He felt anger at this Death Eater for keeping him here while Hermione was in danger. Hermione had gone through enough.  
  
The Death Eater seemed to have lost all ability to breathe. He had been struggling before, as if a hand had been pressed to his mouth and he had a stuffy nose, but now he was hyperventilating.  
  
Harry turned from him and walked back toward the forest, back toward Hermione. The Death Eater would not live through this battle.  
  
Harry stopped right before the forest. There seemed to be a voice from somewhere.  
  
"Help me, Harry! Please help me!" It was Hermione.  
  
"This is a trap," Harry said aloud, realizing that once again Voldemort had played him like a deck of cards. "Voldemort kidnapped Hermione because he knew that I would go after her."  
  
Harry didn't hesitate longer. There was no one to help his friend now but him. If he never showed up, Hermione would die. He stepped into the forest.  
  
Instantly the sounds of the battle disappeared. Harry felt his skin crawl. The forest reeked of the evil that lay hidden in it. Harry could almost feel it around him.  
  
"Harry!" called Hermione's voice. It sounded like it was just beyond the trees. "Help me!"  
  
Harry resisted the urge to yell for her. It would be stupid to give away his position now. Though, being a tiny spark of good in a forest of evil, he was hardly untraceable.  
  
"Harry!" came the voice again.  
  
Harry hesitated. That couldn't be Hermione.  
  
He wasn't as clever as Hermione, but he certainly wasn't brainless. How could Hermione have known he was coming? Even if she did, Harry knew her well enough to know that she would not call for him. She wouldn't want her friends to be in danger. Another trick of Voldemort.  
  
Harry walked carefully, trying not to make a sound. Hermione's voice always seemed right in front of him, but when he reached it, it always seemed further away.  
  
He knew Voldemort tried to lure him somewhere, to fight in his territory, but Harry had no way of stopping him. Voldemort held all the cards. Harry was just a pawn. This was just another chess game, like he played with Ron. Harry and Voldemort were the kings. All help had left them to fight alone- winner take all.  
  
The voice stopped. Harry found himself in pitch blackness with no clear idea where he was.  
  
The pitch blackness suddenly lifted to reveal Hermione, tied magically to a tree.  
  
Without thinking, Harry ran up to her. He pulled the gag out of her mouth.  
  
Hermione's cheeks streaked with tears and dirt covered her face.  
  
"Harry!" She almost sobbed when she saw him. "It's too late! Voldemort's here! The gag! You shouldn't have touched the gag!"  
  
Harry felt a jerk behind his navel and the next second he spun quickly, disappearing to somewhere he knew he had no want to be.  
  
He landed with a thud on the hard ground. Hermione fell to the ground next to him. She was still tied tightly, but she yelled for him instantly.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry said. He tried to untie her hands, but the knots seemed to have melted together.  
  
"Don't, Harry!" Hermione said. "Voldemort doesn't want me involved. He's here! He's been waiting on you. Please, Harry, get out of here! I'll be fine!"  
  
"You'll be dead, that's what you'll be," Harry said angrily, trying to no avail to untie the knots.  
  
"Well," said a cold voice from the shadows around them, "You'll both be quite dead in the end anyway."  
  
Harry froze, not daring to look around.  
  
"Ah, yes," said the cruel voice of Voldemort from behind Harry. "I see you remember me. I remember you quite well, you see. You and you alone have gone against me and yet still live."  
  
Harry could find nothing to say to this, instead, his hands worked more furiously to get Hermione's knots undone.  
  
"Ah, yes, the Mudblood. You have done your part." Hermione suddenly lifted from the ground and flew against a waiting tree. "No doubt you figured my trap long before you fell for it," Voldemort continued. "I made quite sure that you had no other choice, you see. Every person that could protect you is...preoccupied."  
  
Harry slowly stood up and faced the man that had haunted his dreams since before he could remember. Cold, red eyes looked back at him. Harry resisted the urge not to yell in horror and take a step back. No matter how much extra training Dumbledore had put him through, he was not prepared. He couldn't be prepared. Not for this...  
  
"It occurs to me," Voldemort said suddenly, "That I am the only one doing any talking. I'm quite interested to know what you think of this whole situation. I put quite a lot of planning into it, you see. I don't know if you have noticed this or not, but I would much prefer to have you dead than alive."  
  
Voldemort looked at Harry, his red eyes taunting him. It occurred to Harry that he might be expected to speak. He wasn't entirely sure what he planned to say before the words came out.  
  
"You're sick..."  
  
Voldemort, instead of looking offended, smiled his horrible smile. "So I'm told. The truth however, is that I am quite well. It is my enemies, on the other hand, that come to an untimely demise."  
  
Harry couldn't trust himself to speak again. He's already screwed it up the first time.  
  
"I suppose my master plan was to kill Dumbledore before our first attack on the school. You can see how that messed up. I had also originally intended to kill the entire family of those red-headed idiots. But...circumstances change."  
  
Anger boiled inside Harry. How could a person speak so calmly about ending the lives of hundreds of innocent people? But he had come to understand long ago that Voldemort was much less than human.  
  
And in that instant, Harry felt his fear melt away as if every word Dumbledore had ever told him finally decided to sink in. He felt himself go beyond such petty things as life and death. No matter what happened there that day, the suffering would be over for him. He could finally be free of everything that seemed to have haunted him since birth. The prophecy would be fulfilled. The danger would be over. Life would be better. Death would be better.  
  
Harry stood facing Voldemort with a calm air about him that would have surprised anyone. He surveyed the 'flight of death' with the cool collectiveness that any other could never hope to achieve. But his life had been leading up to this. This was the reason he had been chosen before birth. He was ready now, as he had never been ready for anything in his life.  
  
With that epiphany moment, the pain in his scar that had bothered him for so long lessened until it was less than an itch.  
  
Voldemort seemed to have sensed the change. "The end is near, Harry Potter."  
  
"Yes it is, Voldemort," Harry said in a strong voice.  
  
"I see you have learned to accept death. Well, that's not as much fun. I rather hoped you would cry for mercy," Voldemort said with that horrible thin-lipped smile.  
  
"I don't cry," Harry said coldly.  
  
"Oh, but you will," Voldemort smirked. "Trust me, Harry."  
  
"I wouldn't trust you if you saved my life."  
  
"Now, now, Harry. You should be more trusting. It's a virtue."  
  
"What would you know about virtues, Voldemort?" Harry asked frostily. "You're anything but virtuous."  
  
"If I had a heart," Voldemort said with a sneer, "It would be broken."  
  
"Then it's a good thing you don't."  
  
"Enough small talk. Let's get down to business."  
  
"Eager to die?" Harry almost heard himself say.  
  
Voldemort did not look startled. "No. Eager to kill."  
  
Voldemort had the spell out of his mouth before Harry had a chance to send up a shield, but Voldemort had not caught him completely unprepared. Rolling to the side, he dodged it and was on his feet in an instant. He shouted a curse which Voldemort's shield shot back at him. He dodged.  
  
Harry's mind raced faster than it had ever done before, but his body worked mainly off instinct. Each dodge, each feint, was not planned. He did it automatically, as if he had been training his entire life.  
  
Voldemort shot a spell. Harry dodged. Harry shot a spell, Voldemort deflected.  
  
He knew he could not keep it up. He used more energy than Voldemort for every move and he would have to start sending a few spells back. Voldemort sent a curse coming his way. Harry shot up a shield with all the power he could muster.  
  
The shield bent under the power, but it did not break. Harry felt certain that if he should reach out a hand, he could have touched the curse, his shield bent back so far, but it held and the spell went shooting back toward the caster.  
  
There was a lull in the fighting.  
  
"I expected better, Harry, I really did," Voldemort said lazily, twirling his wand around his long, thin fingers.  
  
"If you really wanted to talk," Harry said. "Then you wouldn't have brought me here. You would have invited me for tea."  
  
"That's very true," Voldemort said. "Though I have long ago stopped drinking tea, myself. It's really a terrible waste of time."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but the next second Voldemort yelled, "Crucio!" and he fell to the ground, yelling in pain.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry exited the forest. He barely saw the battlefield in front of him he was searching for something...there.  
  
He caught the faintest trace of a signature so much like his own, but weaker. Far too weak...  
  
Harry followed the trail, his dark cloak and powerful aurora keeping away potential attacker. Those who could not feel his power had long ago died.  
  
The trail led into the forbidden forest. Harry did not hesitate. Voldemort must be in there. Harry must be in there.  
  
He entered once again the forest of darkness-all light extinguished. The sun did not shine through the trees. Harry's signature traced easily. His pace quickened. He was getting close. He turned another tree and found that Harry's signature had vanished entirely.  
  
Cursing, Harry closed his already useless eyes and concentrated on finding the reason for the disappearance. There was a powerful magic. It had been close to this tree...a portkey. Voldemort had portkeyed Harry somewhere.  
  
But there was another signature on the tree as well. Harry's eyes opened in horror. Hermione...  
  
* * *  
  
Harry got to his feet shakily. The Cruciatus curse had been more painful than he remembered. His body still ached.  
  
"Well, that wasn't very nice of me, was it?" Voldemort asked, smirking.  
  
Harry didn't answer. He glared at Voldemort for a split second before continuing the duel once again.  
  
Harry's entire body stopped aching. This was what he had to do, and nothing else in the world mattered. He moved faster, smoother, and more powerful than he had ever done in training. His wand whipped like a sword in front of him, a powerful blade stopping every attack. Every attack, but one...  
  
"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted. Harry's shield did not hold. He fell to the ground again, screaming out his lungs.  
  
The pain stopped for a split second. Voldemort had seen that Harry posed a threat-that he was no longer a joke. This duel needed to be wrapped up quickly.  
  
Harry felt himself thrown against a tree. He hit his head with a crack and stars winked before his eyes. Voldemort approached slowly. Harry attempted to struggle to his feet.  
  
"No, don't get up," Voldemort said. Harry felt a powerful magic pushing him down again. "I'm afraid I'm quickly running out a time," Voldemort explained. "This duel really can't go on. I'm afraid I shall have to end it so soon."  
  
Harry saw, as if in a dream, Voldemort raise his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"  
  
Harry distantly heard Hermione scream. The next second the curse hit him and he felt excruciating pain. It was as if his life was being ripped from his body.  
  
So this is what it's like to die, Harry found himself thinking as the pain did not end. It's more painful than last time.  
  
Suddenly the pain stopped and Harry saw that he was still in the clearing. The weight had been lifted from him and Voldemort was no where in sight. Harry struggled to his feet.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione yelled, sobbing. "I thought you were dead! You yelled and it was horrible and I thought for sure that I would never see you again!"  
  
"Quiet!" Harry said suddenly. Voldemort was no where to be seen. Harry's grip on his wand tightened. Surely he would not have fallen victim to the curse. Harry supposed it had rebounded upon him again.  
  
There was no noise anywhere. Harry hurried over to where his friend was tied.  
  
"Hermione, what happened?" he asked urgently.  
  
Hermione swallowed her tears, and gulped, trying to stop crying. "He sent the curse at you, and you sort of sat there, and you looked like you were in a lot of pain. I'm not sure what V-Voldemort did. I yelled, because I thought you were going to die. I didn't pay attention to him. Then you stopped and I thought you had died, and Voldemort was gone, and then you got to your feet..."  
  
"Where did he go?" Harry asked her.  
  
"I don't know," Hermione said. "I didn't pay attention."  
  
Harry looked down at the ropes still binding Hermione. "He's not dead," he said.  
  
"How do you know?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Because the ropes have a temporary spell around them," Harry said. "They would have vanished with the wizard, if he had died. Beside, my scar is still burning."  
  
"Your scar?" said the horrible voice again. "I suppose it must be something of a warning beacon, isn't it?"  
  
Harry whirled around. Voldemort had returned.  
  
"That's terribly convenient, isn't it?" Voldemort asked. "I wish I had something like that to alert me of Dumbledore's movements...but wait, I already killed Dumbledore, didn't I?"  
  
Harry felt his inside grow hot in anger, but he said nothing. He would play dumb, instead of doing something stupid.  
  
"I expected something of this nature to happen," Voldemort said softly. "It would appear that it is not merely the blood that binds your mother's protection to you, but you as well. Oh well," he said in a business like manner. "It shall be much more fun to kill you the hard way."  
  
Voldemort raised his wand again, and again the final battle between good and evil raged on.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry cursed at his misfortune. Portkeys were hard to trace. With Voldemort's portkey, it was near impossible.  
  
Near.  
  
Harry closed his eyes seized the few strands of magic that the portkey had left. Powerful magic always left some trace.  
  
An image of the world formed in his mind. A small, blinking dot appeared. A portkey had landed there since this portkey had disappeared. More dots followed until all of Great Britain filled with them. Not a single dot appeared anywhere else in the world.  
  
Harry frowned. That was not natural. Then it clicked. Voldemort was playing with him. Doubtlessly he had ordered his Death Eaters to portkey around until they made sure he was untraceable. More dots formed by the minute. They were still at it.  
  
Instantly Harry cut off his mind. The new dots stopped appearing. He frowned while he tried to think of something that made sense. The Death Eaters must have been portkeying around since this went off. That means they must have known that this would go off. He could erase all traces of this portkey from the mental globe, but that would erase his dot as well. He was forgetting something...  
  
Hermione...  
  
Harry concentrated on her signature, practically mentally zooming through the whole of Great Britain. He could not try to locate his younger self because he would end up here, at Hogwarts in the very place his older self would be standing. Voldemort himself would have made sure he covered up his own signature. He felt himself weakening but did not stop. There. He stopped and opened his eyes. Of course...Little Hangington. He should have known. The very last place they would look, yet the very first if you knew its significance.  
  
Harry opened his eyes and the globe disappeared. Waving his hand, he vanished.  
  
Me: Bum. Bum. Bum!!!!!! Boy, I'm really dragging this final fight scene out, aren't I?  
  
Gilthas: Normally, I would tell you that you are getting no where and this chapter could have easily been made into another chapter.  
  
Me: But...  
  
Gilthas: But I'm not going to get too far into it. All my thoughts are really going to that other story, which is harder. *grumbles* Dumb hard story.  
  
Me: Right, anyway...  
  
Authoress: Thanks! Hey, you read both my stories. Thanks! Here's the update!  
  
Liz: Hey, sis. Yay! You reviewed! Another cliffy! Bwahahahahahaha!!!! I live to torment you.  
  
Darkmoon Fleur: I liked older Harry too. My friend doesn't though. She thinks he's too powerful or too mean or something. But I mean to say, look what he's been through!!!  
  
WhatandMiniJackSparrow: What's Legolas doing in a Harry Potter review? Oh well. I've learned long ago not to question these things. Thanks for reviewing!!! Mini Jack Sparrow rules!!!  
  
gaul1: Thanks...  
  
SUNFFLES: Advice and requests are wondeful. In answer to your questions, no, Harry will eventually get better. Dumbledore is, alas, dead. I was trying not to screw up the entire timeline thing just because older Harry came back. I think that Voldemort was growing impatient with Dumbledore and he felt that he was too strong to be defeated by him so he challenged him and (probably by cheating) won. As too details, I'm not really sure. The story is more about Harry anyway so I couldn't just flash over to what Dumbledore was doing randomly. Unless it was a dream...never mind. It's already written anyway.  
  
Rise of Chaos/Allizarin Sylvain Phyre: Which name do you want to go by? Thanks a lot!  
  
EriEka127: Yay!!!  
  
A-man: Evil? You haven't met my 7th grade geography teacher...  
  
SilverKnight7: Crazy? I was crazy once. They put me in a padded room. I lived there, I died there, they barried me in the ground there. Ground? Worms live there. Worms drive me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once...  
  
sara*magic: Sorry about the last cliff-hanger.... *blink* Sorry about this cliff-hanger. *randomly cackles evilly* *blinks again* I was breifly possessed by the spirit of my friend. She's a vampire... ;)  
  
Gilthas: She's a very scary vampire.  
  
Me: Yes, she is. That's a complement by the way. Please don't bite me! Anyway, thanks you so much for all the reviews! Questions? Comments? Please click that little purple button below and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. 


	14. Back to Living Memories

A/N: And the concluding chapter to my wonderful story!!! Minus the epilogue- which I fully expect everyone to hand around for!!!  
  
Gilthas: If they're on your Author Alert list, they're see that you updated and read it anyway.  
  
Me: Good point. Still, I'm rather proud of my epilogue, so read that when I post it!  
  
Gilthas: They will! Just let them read your story!  
  
Me: Right then. Off you go!  
  
_____________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 14: Back to Living Memories  
  
Every word you ever said,  
Echoes down your empty hallway.  
Everything that was your world.  
Just came down.  
  
-Matchbox 20  
  
Harry appeared on the outskirts of the town. Once again he blocked out his signature. No one would be able to sense his arriving. Now, where would Voldemort portkey Harry and Hermione?  
  
Harry concentrated. The Muggle signatures that had been ever present vanished. The powers of two wizards came to his mind. Harry and Hermione.  
  
He could not Apparate. It was too precarious. He didn't know where they were and he couldn't risk being seen. Harry took off at a run instead.  
  
Harry's footsteps led him to the forest on the outside of town. Odd. Harry had expected the graveyard. He walked into the forest, feeling both the wizards' signature instantly grow stronger. He hesitated for only a moment. Harry's signature felt stronger still than it had in the battlefield before. Perhaps he had already unlocked some of his hidden strength.  
  
Harry shook his head. It would not be enough. He continued on at a silent run. Then he stopped suddenly. He had come face to face with a wall of power. So Voldemort had simply confined his power to a small space. Must be almost suffocating. It was also very foolish. Harry did not have the power to feel the full might of it. It was only hurting himself. Such pointless acts usually came with large egos.  
  
Harry walked through the wall. So here was the scene of battle. Harry looked a mess. He could feel the boy's pain. He could feel Hermione's fear. He could feel Voldemort's frustration. Good.  
  
Silently he watched through the trees. His younger self seemed more prepared than he had expected. Odd. Harry had never seen such determination in anyone.anyone but those who knew death would come.  
  
Sometimes the victims in his own time would fight like that. He always found himself surprised by the will they had to live, even after what they had done. As he looked upon the fighting form of his younger self, Harry saw, to his shock, the mirror image of himself.  
  
For some reason this surprised him. He didn't know why. He had expected it. Harry could not win unless he knew the pain that he should have felt. But for some reason, it hurt-like a blow to him. Harry felt that he had failed his younger self somehow. Now it was too late. Once again he would come to be. This boy was doomed.  
  
Doomed to become me, Harry thought suddenly. He is doomed to become Harry Potter, Death Eater hunter, a soulless void.  
  
Harry felt something in him snap at that moment. Something that had been strained to breaking point without him even knowing it. He suddenly saw everything he had ever done, everything he had ever said, through the eyes of another. He saw the anger, the horror, the pain in his own eyes-eyes that none other saw through. He saw the emptiness, the sense of failure, and the pain of loss in the eyes of those who loved him, even as they spoke to him. He saw every move he had made in a whole new light. He did not fight Death Eaters.he fought himself.  
  
Harry felt as if something horrible had slithered down inside him years ago and corrupted his soul. He felt like screaming, trying to get it out. He had something in him, and he had not known it. He had almost accepted it.  
  
He could not move. He felt numb with this startling realization. He did not know how long he had stood there, lost completely in horrific memories. Everything he saw was different, terrible. He had not lost everything. He had lost himself.  
  
Finally something broke through.  
  
"Imperio!"  
  
Harry snapped back to the present. A war had been waged before his unseeing eyes. But it wasn't too late. It was never too late.  
  
"Ever read a Christmas Carol?"  
  
"I have."  
  
"Scrooge changed."  
  
"That proves my point entirely."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Well, he wasn't always like that, was he? Don't you remember the flashbacks? He was a good person. It's his old age that turned him sour. And in the end, he went back to the way he was originally."  
  
"Are you comparing him to me then?"  
  
"Completely."  
  
"I hate to tell you this," Harry said quietly, "But it's going to take a lot more than three ghosts to make me return to how I was originally."  
  
"Like a journey back in time, perhaps?"  
  
"Like a journey back in time," Harry whispered.  
  
He saw, as though from a memory, his younger self raise his wand against Hermione.  
  
Hermione was sobbing. "No, Harry! You can fight this! I know you can!"  
  
Harry saw his younger self hesitate.  
  
Never too late.  
  
Harry stepped on a twig. Voldemort's head jerked up. The curse lessened. Harry's younger self blinked back to reality. When he saw his wand raised and Hermione looking terrified in front of him, power rushed through him. He looked angry beyond anything.  
  
Voldemort seemed to sense that the end was coming. "Crucio!" He yelled. The spell hit Harry. He did not react.  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
"Crucio!"  
  
Harry was now beyond pain. The Cruciatus curse didn't matter. Voldemort had done enough damage. He would not kill Hermione too.  
  
Harry yelled the words that he had never in his life thought he would yell. Voldemort looked stunned, but he was not fast enough. The curse hit him and in that instant, his life left his body. Harry's younger self stood looking at him, looking very dangerous.  
  
But then the danger was over. It was all over. He had won. He collapsed to the ground.  
  
Hermione screamed again. The ropes binding her lost their power and she ran to her friend. Harry looked up at her, his eyes slightly glazed.  
  
"Hermione," he whispered. "Did you see it?"  
  
"I saw it," Hermione said, tearing running down her face. "I'm so sorry, Harry!"  
  
"No," Harry said. He struggled to keep consciousness. "Did you see it?"  
  
"I saw!" Hermione said. "I saw!"  
  
"No," Harry said desperately. He was in great pain. "Did you see it?"  
  
"See what, Harry?" Hermione asked.  
  
"The world," Harry said. "It's gone. I feel light."  
  
"No!" Hermione screamed. "Harry! Stay with me! You can't leave me here!"  
  
But Harry no longer looked at her. His eyes had wondered over to where his older self stood hidden in the shadows. "Hm," he said simply. His eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.  
  
Hermione was sobbing now. "Harry! No, please, no!"  
  
Harry stepped out of the shadows. Hermione's head jerked up. "Who are you?"  
  
Harry walked forward, his head still cloaked. He leaned down next to his younger self's unconscious form.  
  
"No!" Hermione said. "Go away! He's been through enough!"  
  
"I'm not going to hurt him," Harry said. Something caught in his throat. He did not try to push it away.  
  
"Who are you?" Hermione repeated.  
  
"A friend," Harry said. He looked at his younger self. His face looked so peaceful. "Don't leave him, Hermione."  
  
"How did you know my name?"  
  
"I know a lot," Harry said. His voice hardened. "Like how your friend would sit here for 3 days before the Muggles found him."  
  
"What?" Hermione asked. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Nothing," Harry said. "Take care of him, okay? Don't let him go."  
  
"I won't," Hermione whispered.  
  
Harry stood up to leave.  
  
"Wait," Hermione said. Harry hesitated. "Who are you?"  
  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry said.  
  
"Try me," Hermione said.  
  
Harry turned to face her. With shaking hands, Harry reached up and lowered his hood.  
  
Hermione blinked. "But, you're Harry."  
  
Harry turned to leave. "Don't let him go," he said as his parting words. He walked past the dead form of his ultimate nemesis and out of the forest.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry strode through the streets of Little Hangington without his usual purposeful stride. He saw everything differently again. This town wasn't so bad, scarred only from Ton Riddle's birth. But that wasn't the town's fault. That was Riddle's fault.  
  
He felt himself enjoying the peacefulness of the night. The crickets chirped and the stars shone brightly. The moon shone only half full so he knew that he was not alone in his enjoyment this night.  
  
Harry felt wonderful. He no longer felt alone. He felt happier than he had ever felt since this very night in his own time. If only he could stay.  
  
Harry stopped. He had not meant to think that. The sudden realization that he would have to leave this peaceful world proved too much to think about. Harry looked around him. He wasn't ready! Not yet.  
  
But you have to go back, said a voice in his head. You have to. That's where you belong. Not here. This is not your world. This is his world. Your world is waiting for you.  
  
Harry swallowed hard. He would have to leave. But he had done everything right here. He had everything.  
  
But you have everything there, said a voice in his head. Halloween is coming up, you know.  
  
Halloween. That was Ron's favorite holiday. Ron had sent him a letter. He had not paid attention to it. He had thrown it aside.  
  
Harry shook his head. He was being stupid. He would never be accepted here. But there, there he was wanted.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and prepared to materialize. He stopped and pulled out his wand. It felt warm and comforting to his fingers. It was back where it belonged. He Apparated.  
  
Seconds later he appeared back at Hogwarts. The battle was over. He did not pay attention to the dead bodies scattered everywhere. They seemed a part of his past.  
  
Harry opened the large gates outside of Hogwarts. They creaked open. He felt the power of Hogwarts warm and comfort him. Everything was alright. They had won.  
  
He walked with faltering footsteps toward the great doors. Twice he tried to turn back and at least three times he had to stop himself from hiding behind his cloak's hood.  
  
He finally reached the great doors, he made to push them open, but he stopped. Reaching out a shaking hand, he made to knock twice on the doors, seeking permission to enter. Before his hand even hit the door, it swung open. Hogwarts had let him in.  
  
He stepped over the threshold and swallowed back a wave of memories. With halting footsteps, he made his way to the teachers' lounge. Somehow, he knew that they had ended up there.  
  
He stopped outside of the lounge and heard voices from inside. He knocked on the door again.  
  
The voices quieted. The next second, the door opened a crack and he saw Lupin's eyes appear. Instantly the door was open. "Harry!"  
  
"What is he doing here?" cried McGonagall, running to the door. "All the students-" She stopped when she saw Harry. "What?"  
  
"Hello, Professor," Harry said respectively.  
  
"Who is this?" McGonagall asked Lupin.  
  
"This is Harry," Lupin said. "Harry Potter."  
  
"I can see that," McGonagall said. "But he's not the same person!"  
  
"I'm from the future," Harry said quickly. "I was transported here on accident when I chased down Death Eaters in my time and I got caught up in what was happening. I'm the one who took down the Death Eater's shield."  
  
"That was you?" McGonagall asked, impressed. "That was very impressive magic, Potter."  
  
"Thank you," Harry said. The words felt unfamiliar to him.  
  
Lupin looked at Harry. "Why don't you come in?"  
  
Harry walked into the room. It was practically empty. Sirius was there, nursing a head wound, McGonagall and Lupin, Sinistra, and Flitwick.  
  
They looked at Harry with widened eyes.  
  
"Where is everyone else?" Harry asked Lupin.  
  
Lupin's eyes clouded. "We're it."  
  
"What?" Harry asked sharply. "This is everyone?"  
  
"This is everyone," Lupin said hollowly. "And something tells me the fighting has only just begun."  
  
"It's wrong," Harry said quietly.  
  
The room went very quiet. Everyone had stopped moving.  
  
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Harry is currently lying unconscious in the forest of Little Hangington. Voldemort is dead at his feet."  
  
Uproar sounded at this.  
  
Sirius jumped to his feet. "Is he okay? What's wrong with him?"  
  
"He's been through a lot," Harry said. "Hermione's there."  
  
"Hermione?" McGonagall said faintly. "Why in heaven's name is she there?"  
  
"Voldemort kidnapped her and used her to lure Harry out of the castle."  
  
"But Harry got out with the others," Flitwick squeaked. "All the students left."  
  
"They didn't," Lupin said. "I saw them. I thought little Harry was this Harry and then I saw Ron and I panicked because I knew he was a student and grabbed him to portkey him out. Only then did I realize that it this Harry wasn't who I thought he was."  
  
"Where is he exactly?" Sirius asked, grabbing his wand. "I'll go get them. I'll bring him here."  
  
"What can we do?" Sinistra asked. "I mean, Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"I'll get Fawkes," Harry said. "I'm probably the only one who can get into the headmaster's office."  
  
Lupin nodded and motioned for Sirius to go. "Be careful," he warned. "They don't know you're back."  
  
Sirius nodded and left the room.  
  
Harry waved his wand and materialized in the headmaster's office. The portraits were all actually sleeping this time. Phineas awoke when he heard Harry.  
  
"Did we win?"  
  
A few of the other portraits opened their eyes groggily and reached over to wake their neighbors up. Before Harry could say anything, every one of them had awoken completely and looking at him expectantly. Even Fawkes opened a bleary eye.  
  
"Did we win?" Phineas repeated. "Come now, you're keeping us waiting!"  
  
"We won," Harry said.  
  
The portraits looked at each other in delight.  
  
"That means you can make Dumbledore's portrait now!" said a witch excitedly.  
  
"Yes! Make the portrait!" said a wizard happily.  
  
"The portrait!"  
  
Harry looked at the witches and wizards in confusion. "Why is this portrait so important?"  
  
"Because," Phineas said, obviously annoyed at Harry's ignorance. "Until the portrait is made and the portrait maker unlocks the door, a new headmaster can't enter the room!"  
  
"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said. "How would the portrait maker enter the room in the first place?"  
  
"They always find a way," said a witch. "They want to say good-bye in peace."  
  
Harry looked around the room. Fawkes let out a chirp and blinked at Harry with those almost human-like eyes. Harry hesitated. Sirius wouldn't be back for awhile now. He probably had time.  
  
He nodded. "I'll do it. I have to warn you, though. I'm not much of a painter."  
  
"You don't need to be," said a witch. "There are some empty frames in there." She pointed to a door. "Grab one and I'll tell you what to do."  
  
Harry opened the door. Inside laid a single picture frame. He looked at the pictures on the wall. "There's only one left."  
  
"There's always only one left," said a wizard.  
  
"Just take that one," said the witch. Harry grabbed the frame and closed the door behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the door had vanished.  
  
"Never to return until the next headmaster goes," said a wizard, looking at the empty wall.  
  
Harry placed the frame on the desk. "Now what?"  
  
"Place your hand other than your wand hand on the frame," instructed the witch. Harry placed his left hand on the frame.  
  
"Now all you have to do is remember everything you can about Albus Dumbledore. What he told you, his opinions, everything. Appearance really doesn't matter that much."  
  
Harry looked at the witch in some confusion, but she was nodding at him, encouraging him to continue. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
  
He focused his memory on everything Dumbledore had ever told him.  
  
"Why haven't you figured it out yet?" Dumbledore asked, his face expressionless.  
  
"Figured what out?" Harry asked.  
  
"That you being here is not an accident. You have the ability to change the past if you wish to do so."  
  
"What would I change?" Harry asked shortly. "When the final battle comes, it will not be I who stands there. It will be the Harry you know. And without the events that occur here, he would not have the ability to do what he did."  
  
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, searching his robes for something. "Then perhaps you have once again underestimated yourself."  
  
"I don't need this from you," Harry said shortly. "I have my own life now, and I'm going to get back."  
  
"Back to what?" Dumbledore said, pausing in his search to look at Harry with those piercing blue eyes. "From what I can tell, you have nothing left."  
  
"I have everything I need!" Harry said coldly. "And that's more than I ever had here!"  
  
"Ah, you know that to be untrue," Dumbledore said.  
  
"What are you talking about? I have nothing here. Everything I thought I had will be gone within the month; at the end of this year, I'm going to be left on the ground, forgotten, for three days, drifting in and out of consciousness until I am found by Muggles. Don't say I have everything I need."  
  
A flicker of emotion flashed over Dumbledore's face when he heard this. Harry scowled but did not look away. "I'm not asking for your pity. I've gotten over it. That should be good enough for you."  
  
"I might have been," Dumbledore said softly. "Had I not known this to be a lie."  
  
"You know nothing," Harry said shortly. "You don't have any idea about what is to come."  
  
"I know that is has forced you to push away your very humanity," Dumbledore said quietly, surveying Harry over his half moon spectacles. "I can therefore assume that you lost everything you held dear to you. This is war, Harry, but even in war, such a thing should not happen."  
  
"But it did. It will happen. It has happened; it's too late to stop it. Everyone 'that I hold dear' is dead. I killed them." He hadn't meant to say the last line. It had sort of slipped out. Dumbledore seemed to realize this.  
  
"You did not kill them," Dumbledore said fiercely. "Voldemort did."  
  
"And I suppose that by holding my wand to their heart and yelling, 'Avada Kedavra' doesn't mean I killed them," Harry said coldly. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."  
  
"But I know you," Dumbledore said. He hadn't even flinched at Harry's last line. "And I know that you would never do such a thing."  
  
"You don't know me. You never will."  
  
"But I do know the you that belongs in this time, and it's that Harry; that less capable Harry, if you please, that must suffer through it all. I know him. I know that he always follows his heart."  
  
"And just look at all the people I've killed already," Harry said with a smirk that took some effort to place on his face. "I suppose Cedric is dead. Sirius is too. The Weasley family should come next. I'm surprised they haven't already. Oh, and let me guess, Hermione's parents died this summer in an attack. I saw the whole thing."  
  
"You're simply telling me your past," Dumbledore said, but Harry could tell he had mentally stored the information about the Weasleys. "It is your future for which I am concerned."  
  
"Don't be," Harry said. "It's not as if you have any say in it."  
  
"I will never turn my back on you, Harry," Dumbledore said. "You know that."  
  
The memories went further back.  
  
"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly how Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."  
  
"Is there a defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have-and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined-not to want to save you more pain than you have already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, well, and happy? I never dreamed I would have such a person on my hands."  
  
Harry remembered everything and felt his throat getting tight. It was hard to think that he would never speak to Dumbledore again. He hadn't bothered about it last time. It's not that he didn't care. He had cared so much that he wanted the pain to end. So he had pushed it away.  
  
He opened his eyes. He looked down at the painting and saw Dumbledore's face looking up at him, blinking. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath.  
  
"Unless the one person Dumbledore cared for most makes the portrait, the portrait will be incomplete. It will be just like the portraits outside this room. They had no memory when they were painted."  
  
Dumbledore's portrait looked up at Harry. Then he looked around. "It would seem that I'm a portrait." He said.  
  
"Er.Professor?" Harry asked uncertainly.  
  
"Yes, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"Do you remember everything?"  
  
"I do," Dumbledore said. "I suppose I'm dead now, am I? Tell me, where do I get to hang?"  
  
The portraits on the wall burst into applause. Dumbledore looked around. "Hello, everyone."  
  
"Put him here!" said Dippit, gesturing to the empty place beside him. Harry lifted Dumbledore's portrait off the desk and placed it in the empty spot the other portraits gestured.  
  
Dumbledore looked a little shaken after the ride. "Right, well I suppose I shall have to get used to being a portrait, shall I?"  
  
"It's not as bad as you think," said Phineas dismissively. "I say, who should be the new headmaster?"  
  
"That is not longer my concern," Dumbledore said comfortably settling himself down into his chair. "I think maybe I should get some sleep."  
  
Harry grinned. It was good to see Dumbledore again. Fawkes let out a trill. Harry jumped. "I have to go! Harry's just defeated Voldemort. Sirius went to get him."  
  
"Sirius? Indeed. Well, I shall have the new headmaster explain it to me," Dumbledore said, opening one eye.  
  
Harry grinned. Then his grin faltered. "You know I'll have to go back when this is all through."  
  
"I believe in you," Dumbledore said.  
  
"But what if I'm not ready to go back?" Harry asked.  
  
"Was Harry ready to fight Voldemort?" Dumbledore countered.  
  
Harry nodded in understanding, Dumbledore's words bringing comfort. With a wave of his hand, he appeared back in the teachers' lounge. Fawkes burst into flame above his head.  
  
"Is Sirius back yet?"  
  
Lupin shook his head. "You've been gone for a while."  
  
"I'm here now," Harry said. "And tonight I'm leaving."  
  
Lupin nodded in understanding.  
  
"I have a question," Harry said. "Who is it that killed Snape?"  
  
"No idea," Lupin said. "Why?"  
  
"He's alive in my time, that's all," Harry said. His eyes wandered to the window where the bloody battlefield shone below. A person Apparated at the gate, carrying something heavy in their arms.  
  
"Sirius is back," Harry said as a girl appeared at his side, looking worried, as ever to have broken the law of Apparition.  
  
"Hermione's with him. They have Harry."  
  
"I had better go see to the hospital wing," Lupin said. "Perhaps you could send Fawkes along. He has never seemed to listen to me."  
  
Harry nodded as the intelligent bird looked at him questioningly. Fawkes took flight with a widening of his large wings.  
  
They left Harry alone to watch from his lofty perch as Sirius half ran towards the castle. He supposed Harry must be very light to be able to run at all. Hermione had to slow down for him, urging him forward.  
  
Harry looked away. He remembered vividly those three terrible days as he waited, without hope, for someone to find him. The pain had been unimaginable. And not just physically. He had lain next to the body of his best friend.and the person who killed her.  
  
Harry didn't notice it then, but he would look back on it in the years to come as the final moments in which he had fully recovered from his shattered life. He had finally admitted to himself that Voldemort had murdered Hermione. Hermione would have forgiven him years ago for not having the strength left to fight, but it was not Hermione's forgiveness that had been the final moment; it was him, forgiving himself.  
  
He shook his head as he tried to push the pain away. He'd done that enough in one life time and it hadn't worked then. It certainly would not now.  
  
Sirius and Hermione left Harry's and he turned from the window. So there he was. It was one of those lost moments in which he saw where he was and wondered how he'd gotten there. He put his hands in his pockets.  
  
His hand touched a small box. Curiously, Harry pulled it out. The box of Avenir Potion. His ticket home.  
  
Once again Harry hesitated. How could he possibly be forgiven after what he'd done?  
  
"Harry."  
  
Harry turned. McGonagall stood in the doorway.  
  
"Hello, Professor."  
  
McGonagall smiled. "Professor? It's odd to think that I should have ever really taught at this school. It seems like a lifetime ago."  
  
"You have no idea," Harry said, thinking about something completely different.  
  
"After all the wars this school has seen, I would hardly think that one more should make a difference."  
  
"Sometimes only one thing can make a bigger difference than you might think," Harry pointed out.  
  
"Now that I believe entirely," McGonagall said, looking at Harry pointedly. Harry looked away and out the window again, still fingering the small box in silent contemplation.  
  
"You would never have expected," McGonagall continued. "For that little baby we placed on the doorstep that night to have accomplished the things you have done."  
  
"It wasn't my choice, I assure you," Harry said fervently, his gaze drifting toward the Quidditch field.  
  
"But it was," McGonagall said. "I thought we had taught you something here."  
  
"Like what?" Harry asked without thinking.  
  
"Harry!" McGonagall said grinning.  
  
Harry amended quickly. "I mean, that is related to this topic of conversation."  
  
"I know," McGonagall said, still smiling. "Dumbledore used to preach unrelentingly that one makes their own decisions. He said that every single thing that happens to a person is a consequence of their own choices." She looked Harry right in the eye. "And I still believe him to this very day. I think that everything you have gone through, you chose to go through, not for your own personal comfort, but for the overall good. See, that's the difference between you and a lot of other people, Harry. You have the ability to see beyond everything you know and believe. You can look at the bigger picture, while others struggle with their own."  
  
"Thanks, I think," Harry said grinning.  
  
"See now, you're not horrible and mean," McGonagall said. "Remus had some crazy idea about you being moody and irritable."  
  
"Yeah?" Harry asked. He looked back at the pitch again. "He was right in a way."  
  
"Really?" McGonagall asked.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm over it now," Harry said. "I'm just not ready to go back home."  
  
"I can't possibly imagine what it is that could push you that far over the edge," McGonagall said, looking at Harry questioningly.  
  
"It's better not thought about," Harry said quietly. He could feel himself shrinking away, closing up, and pushed hard against that all too familiar feeling.  
  
McGonagall obviously felt it better not to pursue the subject. "It's going to take a lot of work to get Hogwarts back to her old self."  
  
Harry seizes gratefully at the topic. "She'll be back in no time."  
  
"I suppose she had a fight or two left in her," McGonagall said, not looking at Harry but across the bloody grounds.  
  
"I suppose she did."  
  
There was silence for a moment.  
  
The door opened.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius popped his head in. "It's Harry-the other one. He's not in too good of shape."  
  
"How good is 'not too good'?" McGonagall asked.  
  
When Sirius didn't answer at once, Harry was instantly alert. "Is he in the hospital wing?"  
  
Sirius nodded.  
  
The next second, Harry vanished.  
  
He appeared in the hospital wing. Looking around, he saw that Hermione lay asleep in another bed. He supposed someone must have knocked her out to keep her from hovering.  
  
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.  
  
"He's got some deep cuts," Remus said, not looking up from his inspection of the boy on the bed. "He's broken a few bones-nothing an experienced healer couldn't handle. I sent Sirius to get one."  
  
"Sirius came straight to me," Harry said, not realizing the significance.  
  
Remus looked up. "Looks like he's got some confidence in you. Any expertise in the medical field?"  
  
"I healed myself of a bullet wound only a few hours ago.or maybe it just seemed like a few hours."  
  
"Can you heal someone else?" Remus asked.  
  
"I thought I had Fawkes for that."  
  
There was a soft trill and Fawkes materialized in front of Harry.  
  
"Fawkes won't come unless he's called," Remus said, looking at Harry with a significant look that Harry almost missed. He wasn't quite as perceptive as he used to be, or else he had simply found more important things to do, rather than be constantly suspicious. He shook his head and watched as Fawkes landed on the bedpost and looked questioningly at Harry with his intelligent eyes.  
  
"He just finished his fight with Voldemort," Harry explained. "Voldemort almost made him kill his best friend." Harry tried hard to keep the regret out of his voice but he wasn't doing very well.  
  
"I didn't know this," Remus said, looking questioningly at Harry. "What happened?"  
  
"Imperious curse," Harry said. "At the end of the battle. He almost succeeded in making Harry kill Hermione. He would have too, if he hadn't broken through at the last moment."  
  
Harry pushed back the memories that always seemed to resurface at the thought of Hermione. He couldn't go soft, not now. Not when he was needed so badly here.  
  
"You saw it all, did you?" Remus asked. "And would you have intervened had he not been able to throw it off?"  
  
"I did," Harry said quietly.  
  
Remus looked at him sharply. "Do you mean."  
  
"You wondered," Harry said coldly. He could feel himself slipping as everything he had worked for seemed to have become less than before. Remus seemed to sense it too.  
  
"Do you really have no one left in your time?"  
  
Harry struggled to bring himself back out of the whole he had just begun to dig. The thought of Ron offered him some strength. "No," Harry said. "I do have someone. I just don't think he can ever think of me the same way again."  
  
Remus looked at him a moment, and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Ron."  
  
Harry nodded. "He has a Halloween get-together every year. It's his favorite holiday. I've never been, but he always sends an invitation."  
  
"It seems to me that he's never stopped looking at you the same way," Remus said. "It sounds to me like it's you that can't look at yourself the same way."  
  
Harry looked up and saw out of the corner of his eye, that Fawkes was crying.  
  
* * *  
  
"All the time in the world shall be mine! Let me pass through the barriers of the mortal realm and walk once again upon soil that is my own! The skies shall not tremble and the earth beneath my very feet will be the earth that belongs there! Let me return to the present and let time be healed!"  
  
The portal burst into being in front of him. The pressure he had expected did not come and, somehow, he knew that this time the portal would let him through.  
  
He looked back and saw Remus looking back at him. He nodded once and Harry turned back to the portal.  
  
"Laisser entrer!" Harry chanted. He took another step forward.  
  
The pressure of the portal no longer held him back. He held himself back and he knew it.  
  
He did not look back at Remus again, for he knew that if he did, he would not be able to do what he knew he had to do.  
  
I think that everything you have gone through, you chose to go through, not for your own personal comfort, but for the overall good.  
  
Harry took another step in front of the portal and found himself much too close. He wasn't ready to go yet. He wasn't ready.  
  
Was Harry ready to fight Voldemort?  
  
Phoenix song trilled in his ears. He didn't know where it was coming from, but it gave him strength, and he was grateful.  
  
He the front of the portal loomed in front of him now and he took a step forward. He could feel the strands of time give way, only for a moment, so that he may pass. He looked back to see his godfather and his former professor for the last time, but they were gone. All that was before him now was the swirling mass that was time.  
  
______________________________________________________  
  
A/N: There it is. My wonderful story. The epilogue is coming, I remind you again.  
  
Gilthas: They know!  
  
Me: I know! I just wanted to mention it before we got any further...  
  
gual1: Up and ready to read. Or already have been read...whichever.  
  
Darkmoon Fleur: Both saved-happy and healthy. Well, less healthy in Harry's case, but he's okay, right? More in the epilogue!  
  
Authoress: One question. How long did it take you to write all that?  
  
A-man: Gees. There's one review I'm not going to copy off and hang on my refrigerator...  
  
potter-man1: 'The first', huh? I have a friend who's a 'Jr.' I just managed to get way off topic...  
  
Nasser Himura: *is horrified* Kill future Harry off? I wouldn't dream of it!  
  
Meggles: Thanks! *grins widely*  
  
Allizarin Sylvain Phyre: 'Allizarin Sylvain Phyre' it is. Do you have any idea how hard that is to spell? :)  
  
Vampire Story Hunter: Done and done.  
  
Liz: You didn't review! You should be flogged! Okay, press that little blue button. Press it! Come on! You can do it! I have faith in your button pressing abilities.  
  
Gilthas: Thank you for all the reviews!  
  
Me: I usually say that.  
  
Gilthas: I just beat you to it.  
  
Me: Crap. Oh well, thank you for all the reviews and please to review again!!! I like them! They make me happy.  
  
Gilthas: And me.  
  
Me: And if they make my muse happy, then they really are happiness bringers.  
  
Gilthas: *wistfully* I wish the rest of the world went by those rules...  
  
Me: *grins* 


	15. Epilogue

A/N: The epilogue's here! The very last chapter! *sniff* I promised myself I wouldn't cry!  
  
Gilthas: It's okay!  
  
Me: I know. Okay, read some! Review when you're done!  
  
~  
  
Chapter 15: Epilogue  
  
I'm finding my way back to sanity again  
Though I don't really know what  
I am gonna do when I get there  
Take a breath and hold on tight  
Spin round one more time  
And gracefully fall back into the arms of grace  
  
-Life House  
  
Harry stood uncertainly outside the house. Inside everything was bright and cheerful. He could practically feel the warmth of the crackling fire that he knew must be in there. He shivered against the cold and pulled his cloak tighter around him. He would freeze if he stood out there too long.  
  
Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. He could do this, he could.  
  
Almost as if his hand had been turned completely to lead, Harry lifted it to the brass doorknocker.  
  
He stood there, every fiber in him telling him that this was wrong, that he could still turn back, that he didn't have to go through with this.  
  
Yes, Harry thought firmly. I do.  
  
The door opened.  
  
Harry shrunk instinctively from the light. A laughing, red-haired man appeared in the doorway. He squinted in the sudden darkness-a sharp contrast to the world to which he had become accustomed.  
  
Harry could feel his legs start to give out from under him. He took an unsteady step forward and felt totally exposed in the bright light.  
  
Ron stopped squinting. His smile faded and he said hoarsely, "Harry?"  
  
Harry realized that his cloak that had been his safety blanket for so long was still slightly over his head. Harry reached up and pulled it off with one hand, the other digging into his pocket for something he had put there earlier.  
  
"Harry!" Ron said. His entire face seemed to light up. He just stood there though, waiting for Harry to make the first move.  
  
Every ounce of self confidence that Harry had worked so hard to muster up before this moment seemed to have slipped from him so that he felt like a poor orphan who had been beaten into submission. His hand in his pocket found what it was looking for and he seized it gratefully.  
  
He pulled a small letter from his cloak. "I-I got this invitation." Harry stammered. "And I-I thought maybe I could come."  
  
"My door," Ron said his voice full of happiness. "Has always been open."  
  
* * *  
  
Harry awoke from a deep slumber three weeks after his encounter with Voldemort. His wounds had been healed instantly by phoenix tears, but the utter exhaustion, and a few well placed curses that not even phoenix tears could get the first time, had kept him a state somewhere between unconsciousness and unreality.  
  
He tried to sit up, but his head pounded and he quickly lay back down again.  
  
From what he could see without his glasses on, it was very dark outside. It must be the middle of the night.  
  
And where was he? Harry reached over to the bedside cabinet that was oddly familiar and felt around for his glasses.  
  
They sat on the very edge and his hand bumped them. They fell silently to the floor. Frowning, Harry squinted around. He was in the hospital wing.  
  
Memories came back to him. The fight flashed before his eyes. Hermione! What had happened to Hermione?  
  
He tried to look around but curtains surrounded his bed. It was then that he noticed that he was not alone.  
  
A man sat next to him, sound asleep, his head resting on his arms which, in turn rested on Harry's covers. He faced away from him so that Harry could not see his face, though he probably could not have made out anything distinctive about the man's features without his glasses.  
  
He reached again for his glasses before remembering he had already knocked them to the floor. His brain seemed very muddled.  
  
He instead concentrated his efforts on trying to figure out who the man was. Squinting until his eyes were very nearly shut, Harry could make out long black hair that was considerably messy-even compared to his own. It looked as though it had not been washed for several days.  
  
The man groaned and moved a little. The voice registered in his brain. But...that sounded like.  
  
There was a wonderfully brief moment when Harry contemplated that perhaps he had gone to sleep at one point and never awoken. That he battle with Voldemort, Sirius's death, Dumbledore's death, Hermione's parent's attack..all of it, had been some long dream. That he had gone to sleep one day and never really woken up.  
  
His head pounded again. Nope. Still, that man was strangely familiar. Harry reached out a hand. It hurt like hell, but he had to know. He couldn't wait any longer.  
  
Harry's finger's brushed lightly against the man's hair.  
  
The man stirred slightly and muttered, "Another five minutes."  
  
Harry smiled a little.  
  
Suddenly the man sat up with a jerk knocking his chair backwards and falling to the floor. He scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Harry squinted harder, not daring to believe it, but having no way of being sure.  
  
The man dropped to his knees and knelt beside his bed. Harry squinted again and this time he saw.  
  
"Sirius?" His voice cracked. It was weak from lack of use. Harry might have wondered how long he had been out had he not been slightly preoccupied.  
  
"Harry! You're awake! Are you okay? How do you feel? Are you-"  
  
Sirius trailed off and realized Harry was not taking in a word he was saying. "Harry?"  
  
"Sirius!" Harry said. "You're alive!" Suddenly he stopped, frowning. "Or am I dead?"  
  
"No!" Sirius practically shouted. "You're alive! I'm alive too! It's rather a long story I'll have to tell you later-omitting details, of course. But people have known that for ages, Harry. It's you we've been worried about."  
  
"Me? But Sirius! You were dead!"  
  
"Like I said, Harry," Sirius said, grinning. "Old news. The vast majority of the world knows that by now. You've been out for quite a while."  
  
Harry wasn't sure what to say. How could Sirius be so calm about this? Unless.  
  
"You weren't hiding from me, were you?" Harry asked, dreading the answer. "You died! I saw you! You fell into that veil and they said you could never come out! That happened didn't it?"  
  
"Yes!" Sirius said, shocked that Harry should suggest such a thing. "It all happened! I'll explain it to you later, I promise. You don't need to get worked up about this. I'll be thrown out if you do!"  
  
Harry had no words to describe what he was feeling at the moment. He was torn between surprise at finding Sirius alive, confusion over the whole matter, happiness, of course for the return of his godfather, annoyance at being worried over, and above all, in quite a lot of pain from his injuries and his brain trying to work a little too hard.  
  
Sirius seemed to realize this. He forced himself to calm down. "It's okay, Harry." He righted his chair and sat down in it. He took Harry's hand in his and looked him in the eye. Harry had lost quite a bit of weight in his long stay in the hospital wing, but his eyes shone as brightly as usual.  
  
"Should I go get Ron and Hermione?" Sirius asked. "I'm sure there are quite a few others who would love to see you as well, but I think maybe you should take it slow."  
  
"Ron and Hermione are fine," Harry said grinning.  
  
Sirius grinned to and started to walk from the little curtained place.  
  
"Sirius?"  
  
Sirius stopped and turned around.  
  
"I'm glad you're back."  
  
"Me too." He closed the curtain behind him. Harry caught a glimpse of brightly covered paper filling the room. Harry blinked. Was he in the hospital wing? Where was Madam Pomfrey?  
  
He didn't have long to dwell on his thoughts, however.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Harry cringed when he heard Hermione's shrill voice. The loud noise made his head hurt. But he grinned all the same. The curtains were ripped aside to show Ron and Hermione, still in their night clothes. He also got another glimpse of the room beyond. Bertie Botts?  
  
Ron grinned when he saw where Harry was looking. "You've seen your presents, have you? Professor Lupin had to charm the window to keep the owls away. Over half the stuff had to be moved to another room. And it's not all candy! People sent some expensive stuff as well. We don't know what half of it is because they wrapped it, but we've checked to make sure nothing is dark magic, you know, sent from Death Eaters."  
  
Harry head was spinning. "People sent me gifts? What for?"  
  
"Defeating You-Know-Who!" Ron said. Hermione nudged him. "What?"  
  
"You've got an Order of Merlin, you know," she said. Her voice was much quieter than Ron's. "First Class."  
  
"Any benefits?" Harry asked, trying to block the memory of the battle out of his head.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Ron asked. "You're allowed to go anywhere! They can't stop you from going most anywhere. You get special seating at fancy restraints. You get a discount on just about everything-"  
  
"But don't forget the most important," Hermione interjected, grinning.  
  
"Eh? What's that?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're guaranteed a spot in the Wizen Gamut. They can't turn you away!"  
  
"Wow," Harry said grinning. "I'll go to every meeting."  
  
Ron snorted and Hermione grinned. Then her smile flickered. "How are you, Harry?"  
  
"Oh, not bad," Harry said. "If I don't move, it doesn't hurt."  
  
Hermione and Ron stood awkwardly by the side for a moment, as though unsure how to take that.  
  
"What do you reckon about Sirius, though," Harry said, another smile coming on, trying to lighten the mood and get answers at the same time. "Have you seen him?"  
  
"How could we not have seen him?" Hermione asked. "If we try to come and visit you, he's constantly hovering over our shoulder until we leave, telling us to 'be careful' and 'don't hurt him'."  
  
"What's his story then?" Harry asked. "He said he would tell me later."  
  
"We're still rather unclear on the whole thing," Ron said, frowning. Harry's gaze flickered to Hermione and saw that she suddenly looked a little embarrassed, like she knew something but wouldn't say.  
  
"Well, spill."  
  
"Apparently it had to do with that mirror you broke 5th year," Ron said. "Sirius had the other mirror when he went through. When you tried to contact him, it formed a link."  
  
"But I broke it," Harry said. "And I still have it in my trunk."  
  
"Yes," Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully. "And that's what I don't understand. When it broke, you can't just repair it because the charm breaks with the mirror and you have to have both mirrors to put the charm back on. But I suppose they were in the Department of Mysteries and maybe there's something in there that could do something like that."  
  
"Who was in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked.  
  
"Some Death Eater and an Order of the Phoenix member, as far as we can tell," Ron said, shrugging. "They were very vague on who it was. No names were mentioned at all. Of course, we're sure Sirius knows because he said that they (still no names there either) tied the Death Eater up and left him there like that. Anyway, Sirius's name was cleared when they found Peter Pettigrew dead on the Death Eater field."  
  
Hermione suddenly blinked as though she had just figured something out, but she quickly hid her expression.  
  
"Hermione," Harry asked. "Do you know something we don't?"  
  
"Of course not," Hermione said dismissively, but Harry could see it in her eyes.  
  
"You do too!" Harry said. "I took that stupid Occlemency course with Snape enough times to at least be able to tell if someone's hiding something. Tell us."  
  
"I don't know anything," Hermione insisted. "I've already forgotten what it was I was thinking about. It couldn't possibly be that important, could it?"  
  
Ron seemed satisfied, but Harry gave her one more suspicious look before dropping the subject. "So, you said something about expensive gifts?"  
  
* * *  
  
Harry checked himself in the mirror. His face still had a rather tired look about it, but he didn't care. Maybe that would prevent the other students asking him questions.  
  
He straightened his robes nervously. He was leaving the hospital wing much earlier than he had wanted to, but Sirius had insisted he be present for his very last End-of-Term feast he would ever have. Madam Pomfrey would never have allowed it, but she had died in the fighting, like the vast majority of the staff.  
  
A knock sounded at the hospital wing door. He was the only one in there and it had become something like a room-away-from-his-room.  
  
"Come in," Harry said.  
  
The door opened. Sirius stuck his head in. "Ready?"  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry said, taking a deep breath.  
  
"That's the spirit," Sirius said, grinning. He fully entered the room now. "Let's go."  
  
Seeing that hiding under the bed until Sirius went away was not an option, Harry made himself walk to the door where Sirius was waiting on him.  
  
They walked to the Great Hall in silence, Harry lost too deep in thoughts and worries to say much of anything and Sirius beginning to worry that maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.  
  
They paused outside the Great Hall. Sirius's worries got the best of him.  
  
"Are you sure you're ready?"  
  
Harry hesitated before nodding. "I've come this far, haven't I?"  
  
"And you can't stay in the hospital wing forever," Sirius agreed.  
  
"No matter how much I wish I could."  
  
Sirius grinned and ruffled his latest attempt at calm hair. Harry turned to the doors and took another deep breath, letting it out slowly, postponing the moment in which he would have to open those doors.  
  
"I'll be right next to you," Sirius reminded him.  
  
Harry nodded. Reaching out a hesitant hand, Harry pushed open the doors. Maybe he could just slip in, so no one would even notice.  
  
Everyone was looking at him. The second the door had opened, the Great Hall had quieted and every eye had turned to rest on him. Harry knew every person had questions to ask. He tried to look instead, at Ron and Hermione's anxious faces, though they did not help much for his nerves.  
  
Sirius squeezed him on the shoulder. Realizing that he couldn't just stand there, and at some point he might be expected to walk, Harry took a small step on now leaden legs. Sirius followed him as far a he could before having to turn back to the teachers' table and then left Harry to walk by himself, completely alone, with every eye in the Great Hall staring directly at him.  
  
Harry did not stop. He continued walking as though everyone in the hall had continued to eat and talk. The eerie silence had not yet been broken.  
  
Harry sat down between Ron and Hermione. Ron glared at the 5th year across the table from them.  
  
"Keep staring, maybe he'll do a trick."  
  
The sound echoed through the hall and snapped the majority of people back to their senses. The talking slowly returned, though the stares never completely left him.  
  
Harry looked gratefully at his friend.  
  
"Hungry?" Hermione asked, pulling the mashed potatoes toward them.  
  
"Starved," Harry said, grabbing the spoon thankfully.  
  
They ate their meal in peace, talking and chatting happily. Hermione bragged briefly on her exceptional NEWT scores while Ron rolled his eyes at her. Ginny came to sit with then later and when she began to talk to them normally, it encouraged others to talk as well and soon they had formed a group including Seamus, Neville, Dean, Parvati, and Lavender. No one asked Harry to talk about 'the incident' and Harry did not bring up the subject. By the end of the feast, Harry was beginning to feel happy about being back at Hogwarts.  
  
Professor McGonagall stood up.  
  
Headmistress McGonagall, Harry reminded himself.  
  
"First I would like to say," McGonagall said. "That this has been a very trying year for everyone." A few eyes flickered toward Harry, which he ignored. "I would personally like to thank each and every one of you who helped this year. I know that this year has been one of the hardest in Hogwart's history. There have been many unfortunate deaths this year including that of our beloved Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. Could everyone now please stand and give a toast to his memory?"  
  
Every single person in the hall stood and raised their goblets, muttering "Dumbledore".  
  
"I don't want to keep you from your warm beds much longer," McGonagall said. "But I would like to say, that I hope to see every face here next year, except, of course, the 7th years. We will all miss them very much, and I know the Quidditch team will, especially." Her gaze flickered to Ron and Harry, who grinned at each other out of the corner of their eye.  
  
"Saying this, all I have left to say, is good night and have a safe trip home tomorrow."  
  
There was some applause to this. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried out of the hall, trying not to get caught in any sort of crowd. Harry had to use two short cuts to get rid of a few people who were looking for him.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow," Hermione said. "And don't get on the train! We have to graduate sometime!"  
  
Harry and Ron nodded and headed up the stairs to their dormitory. The way seemed familiar to Harry, yet strange at the same time. It felt like a different life ago that he had slept in this room with the rest of his house.  
  
"Ready for graduation?" Ron asked as he pulled on his night clothes.  
  
"Couldn't be readier," Harry replied.  
  
It was true. Hogwarts had been his home, but Dumbledore had been like his father. He knew that he could not stay here without Dumbledore. It was impossible. It would not be Hogwarts. It was now a different school for a different time.  
  
Because it is a different time, Harry decided, getting into bed. A better time, I suppose. And it had better be for the best.  
  
The End  
  
~  
  
A/N: I can't believe it's over! *cries*  
  
Gilthas: I can't believe it either! Much sadness!!!  
  
Me: Yeah, I've been thinking about a sequel because I love this story! Of course, if I do a sequel, I think it would be about the future Harry instead of the past Harry. I mean, 3003 is kind of a sequel for the other Harry, for those who noticed. Besides, I kind of think older Harry is...well...more interesting than the younger Harry. Either way, please tell me what you think!!!  
  
keebler-elmo: Here it is! *starts crying again*  
  
Authoress: Not saying nothing! *cackles evilly* Did you know that you were the only one of two that realized the Harry not unlocking the door thing? *sigh* Oh well, I'm glad you noticed!!!  
  
SilverKnight7: Thanks!  
  
Allizarin Sylvain Phyre: Does Sylvain mean something? My computer doesn't underline it as misspelled... Here's my epilogue! I can't believe it's over!  
  
sara*magic: You're blonde? I used to be. Now I'm blue. *laughs* No, literally. Anyway, I like you're ideas for the sequel, but I think I need more of a plot for the future Harry. Still, I'll put my invisible thinking cap on (or visible thinking cap, if that doesn't work). I really want a sequel though!  
  
A-man: *laughs* I know. Suggestions for sequel? Not plot lines, but, you know, would you prefer future Harry of past Harry? Stuff like that.  
  
Victoria: So glad! Here's the epilogue! What do you think about the sequel?  
  
Darkmoon Fleur: Headmaster? Then what would I do for a sequel?  
  
~  
  
Me: Thanks so much for everything!!! I'm so sad that this story is over!!!  
  
Gilthas: You've said that four times now.  
  
Me: Well I am! I don't know what I'll do after this!!!  
  
Gilthas: *blinks* Why not write 3003?  
  
Me: I will! I just liked having two stories going at once. It was spiffy.  
  
Gilthas: Right.  
  
Me: Okay, I can't believe it's already over!!! Okay, my epilogue is over! My story is over! Tell me what you think about a sequel or if you just want me to write something completely different.  
  
Gilthas: Are you done yet?  
  
Me: When I finish typing, my story is going to be over!  
  
Gilthas: Don't worry about it. You have other stories.  
  
Me: Yeah. So review! Please! It's over! 


End file.
